“The gray-haired man,” continued the detective, “laughing so loudly, with a broad scar above his eye, has been in nearly every principal prison in France, and yet has never served out a single term. Professional thief as he is, he does not appear to be very vicious or malignant. He has never been known to do any one bodily harm, and is always as cheerful as he is now. He would not be such a bad-looking fellow except for that scar, and the fracture of his nose, which was caused, some years ago, by his jumping from a wagon conveying him to jail. “The very dark man, sitting on that bench, and swinging his legs, is a Spaniard. He came here from Madrid, where he had been for some years a bull-fighter, and whence he had to fly for poisoning his father to get a little property. Poisoning is his specialty, and he is believed to have disposed of a number of persons in that way. Whenever he takes life, he has, of course, a purpose in it, and he has come into possession of a good deal of money by the deaths he has brought about. A greater villain than he probably never breathed: he seems to have no more objection to committing murder than he has to smoking a cigar; and he is known as Pedro the Killer—a nickname of which he is really proud.” [Sidenote: THE GREATEST SCAMP IN PARIS.] “There is a young person I have not noticed before,” I said to my companion, pointing to the left. “Who is he? He can’t be a thief. He must have gotten into this company by mistake. Is he a gentleman seeking for acquaintance with underground life, like myself?” The man I had designated could not have been more than twenty. He had a fresh, handsome face, and when he smiled, as he often did, his smile lighted up his countenance as sunshine lights up a landscape. It was hard to associate him with crime or vice of any kind, and hence my question. The detective laughed, and said, “You mean the Badger. He is one of the greatest scamps in all Paris, and one of the most desperate scoundrels. There is nothing in the world he would not do for money. If I were not here, and anybody were to offer him five francs, he would walk up to you, salute you politely, and blow your brains out, regarding it as a capital joke. The Badger is well educated, and is reputed to be the son of a prominent lawyer by an actress. He ran away from home, and turned thief on instinct. He is absolutely without fear and without conscience. That crime is natural to him is proved by his enjoyment of it. He has had marvellous good luck, for, though frequently arrested, he has never been punished, and the fact of his getting off again and again is ascribed by some to the influence and wealth of his father.”