"Charges?" repeated Mr. Hucks. "Eh? Lost one of your orphans? Well, I haven't found him--or her, if it's a girl. Why don't you go to the police?" "It is a boy. Naturally I hesitate to apply to the police if the poor child can be recovered without their assistance. Publicity in these matters, as no doubt you can understand--" Mr. Hucks nodded. "I understand fast enough." "The newspapers exaggerate . . . and then the public--even the charitable public--take up some groundless suspicion--" "Puts two and two together," agreed Mr. Hucks, still nodding, "and then the fat's in the fire. No, I wouldn' have the police poke a nose into the 'Oly Innocents--not if I was you. But how do _I_ come into this business?" "In this way. One of your employees was delivering coal to-day at the Orphanage--" "Fifteen ton." "--and I have some reason to believe that the child escaped by way of the coal-cellar. I am not suggesting that he was helped." "Aren't you? Well, I'm glad to hear you say it, for it did look like you was drivin' at something o' the sort. I don't collect orphans, for my part," said Mr. Hucks with a glance around. "What I meant to say was that your man--whoever he was--might be able to give some information." "He might," conceded Mr. Hucks guardedly, "and he mightn't; and then again he might be more able than willin'." "Must I remind you, Mr. Hucks, that a person who abets or connives at the sort of thing we are discussing is likely to find himself in trouble? or that even a refusal of information may be awkwardly construed?" "Now see here, Glasson"--Mr. Hucks filled his pipe, and having lit it, leaned both elbows on the table and stared across at his visitor-- "don't you ride the high horse with me. A moment ago you weren't suggestin' anything, and you'd best stick to that. As for my man-- whoever he was--you can't charge him with stealin' one o' your blessed orphans until you lay hold on the orphan he stole and produce him in court. That's _Habeas Corpus_, or else 'tis _Magna Charter_--I forget which. What's more, you'd never face a court, an' you know it." He cast a curious glance at the Doctor's face, and added, "Sit down." "I beg your pardon?" "Sit down. No, not there." But the warning came too late. "Not hurt yourself, I hope?" he asked, as the Doctor rubbed that part of himself which had come into collision with the sharp edge of a concertina. "Clear away that coil of hose and take a seat on the packing-case yonder. That's right; and now let's talk." He puffed for a moment and appeared to muse. "Seems to me, Glasson, you're in the devil of a hurry to catch this child." "My anxiety is natural, I should hope." "No it ain't," said Mr. Hucks with brutal candour.