“That night when the robbery was done I met Benjie in a public-house in the Pleasance. He pretended to be very drunk, but he wasn’t, and I knew it, and wondered what he was after, as I smelt chloroform, and knew he was the only one who could have it about him. He got quarrelsome and broke a glass, and was put out of the place. I didn’t stay long after, as I was curious about him. He went along a street or two pretty drunk like, and then got as sober as a judge, and went out very smart to the cottage at the Meadows. The whole job didn’t last five minutes, and I watched it all a bit off. When he came out again he had a narrow box in his hands, and he went to the dog kennel and pushed the box in below it, and then bolted. I went for the box, and got it, and bolted too, for I was frightened, seeing the servant’s foot in the lobby, and thinking maybe he had given her too strong a dose. I burned the box whenever I got under cover, and hid everything but the money. I heard that Benjie was locked up for being drunk and abusive the same night. He was no more drunk than I am now, but I s’pose he thought he’d be safer in there than out.” This story was too wonderful for me to credit at a moment’s notice, but I thought there could be no harm in getting hold of Benjie. I had pledged my word to him that he was not to appear in the case as a witness; his appearing as a prisoner was quite outside of the bond. I went to look for Benjie soon after my interview with Pauley, and chanced to meet him coming up a close in the High Street, when he graciously smiled out, and seized hold of my hand to shake it warmly, while he thanked me most heartily for so neatly securing Pauley and Bell. He seemed to look upon the capture as a personal favour done to himself. He was shortly to change his opinion. “I’ll go up the close with you,” I quietly remarked, turning and accompanying him as far as the High Street. “There are some points in that affair I’m not quite sure of, and I want you to go with me as far as the Office.” “All right, but I am not to appear as a witness,” he warningly observed. “No, no, not as a witness,” I assuringly returned, “and, lest anyone should suspect you of peaching, suppose I put one of these on you and take you along on suspicion?” He looked at me suspiciously, but recovered and grinned out as I snapped the steel on his wrist— “It’s a good joke,” he said delightedly. “I don’t mean it for a joke at all,” I said, becoming serious. “Really and truly I am arresting you on suspicion.” His whole countenance changed, his jaw fell, and for a moment he stopped walking, and looked as wicked as any human being could look.