Harry looked after him with a satirical smile. 'You filched that morsel of dog Latin out of the end of the English dictionary, my friend,' he thought, 'and your untutored mind does not apply it with particular relevancy. But I see that, like all fanatics, you distort texts and sayings into fitting your own peculiar views. Well, well, the ends you aim at are right enough, no doubt, but your method of reaching them is as queer a one as ever came under my notice. Go your ways, Torquemada Baltic, there are the germs of a mighty intolerant sect in your kind of teaching, I fear,' and in his turn Sir Harry went about his own affairs. Inspector Tinkler, more purple-faced and important than ever, sat in his private office, twirling his thumbs and nodding his head for lack of business on which to employ his mighty mind. The afternoon, by some freak of the sun which had to do with his solar majesty's unusual spotty complexion, was exceptionally hot for a late September day, and the heat made Mr Inspector drowsy and indolent. He might have fallen into the condition of an official sleeping beauty, but that a sharp knock at the door roused him sufficiently to bid the knocker enter, whereupon a well-fed policeman presented himself with the information--delivered in a sleepy, beefy voice--that Mr Baltic wished to see Mr Tinkler. The name acted like a douche of iced water on the inspector, and he sharply ordered the visitor to be admitted at once. In another minute Baltic was in the office, saluting the head of the Beorminster police in his usual grave style. 'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!' rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am glad to see you. There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.' 'Thank you, Mr Inspector,' said Baltic, and, taking a seat, carefully covered his knees with the red bandanna, and adjusted his straw hat on top of it according to custom. 'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your little affair get on?' 'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of arrest.' 'By George! eh! what! Have you found him?' roared Tinkler, starting back with an incredulous look. 'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes.' 'Good!' snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion to his abrupt military manner. 'His name?' 'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him. It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.' 'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline.' 'I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order,' returned Baltic, with a dry smile; 'however, we can discuss that question later. At present I shall detail my evidence against'--Mr Inspector leaned eagerly forward--'against the man who killed Jentham.' Mr Inspector threw himself back with a disappointed snort. ''Tention!' threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to take notes. 'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'