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When the door had closed upon the infuriated policeman, Binger hastened back to his employer.

"That man was a detective," he whispered hoarsely.

"I know that," said Jim, stifling a yawn. "He stole my matches—what other proof was needed, Binger?"

"What did he come here for, sir?" asked Binger in agitation.

"To find out all about me, and apparently to get a light for his cigar. He knows all he'll ever know. Don't worry your head about him, Binger."

"Them fellows are as hartful as monkeys," said the valet.

"Hartfuller," agreed Jim, "but not much. A monkey isn't clever at all: get that into your nut, Binger. He's the most stupid of all the lower animals."

"Are you going out to-night, sir?" after a pause.

"No, I'm staying in to-night. You may go home early to your wife and family—I suppose you have a family?"

"Yes, sir, I've two boys in the Harmy," said Binger proudly.

Jim Morlake nodded.

"I don't think I shall want you for anything more. Tell Mahmet to bring me coffee: I shall be working late to-night."