it at every inspection, and the present occasion proved no exception. There were two strangers—one a hawker, and the other an evil-looking character with the hair of his head cropped close to the skull, and his face as smooth and hairless as the palm of his hand. Neither of these answering the description, M^cSweeny began to make inquiries for Johnston, and was even obliging enough to describe his character and general appearance to those present in that kitchen. “I believe I saw him not an hour ago,” said the cropped-headed man sullenly, after a dead silence on the part of all present. “Where?” eagerly demanded M^cSweeny. “Where I could get him again in five minutes, I think, if it was worth my while,” suggestively returned the man. “Will you take me to him now, then?” cried M^cSweeny. “No. But I’ll send him up here if you like to wait. Is it worth half-a-crown?” M^cSweeny considered for a moment, and then said that it was. The man slowly rose from his place by the fire and held out his hand for the money; but the clever and cunning M^cSweeny only winked hard, and made a few remarks about great detectives, famous all over the world, not being easily cheated. “No, no, my jewel,” he added; “ye’ll get the money when ye’ve earned it—not a minute sooner.” The man scowled horribly, and slowly slunk out of the room and the house. Was ever an escape more neatly effected? That clean-shaven, cropped-haired man was Johnston! The moment he had entered the city he had gone to a barber and got shaved and cropped—I afterwards spoke to the man who did it—and the alteration which such an operation effects on the appearance can be understood only by those who have seen it performed. Had Johnston been placed at that moment under the eyes of Mr Goodall he most certainly would not have been able to identify his late guest; nay, I am not sure but he might have sworn most positively that that was not the man.