The superintendent seated himself with the manner of a man who has had a long and strenuous day, and forthwith began his story.

“As soon as we had your information, we procured a warrant for the arrest of both parties, and then I went straight to their flat with Inspector Badger and a sergeant.  There we learned from the attendant that they were away from home and were not expected back until to-day about noon.  We kept a watch on the premises, and this morning, about the time appointed, a man and a woman, answering to the description, arrived at the flat.  We followed them in and saw them enter the lift, and we were going to get into the lift too, when the man pulled the rope, and away they went.  There was nothing for us to do but run up the stairs, which we did as fast as we could race; but they got to their landing first, and we were only just in time to see them nip in and shut the door.  However, it seemed that we had them safe enough, for there was no dropping out of the windows at that height; so we sent the sergeant to get a locksmith to pick the lock or force the door, while we kept on ringing the bell.

“About three minutes after the sergeant left, I happened to look out of the landing window and saw a hansom pull up opposite the flats.  I put my head out of the window, and, hang me if I didn’t see our two friends getting into the cab.  It seems that there was a small lift inside the flat communicating with the kitchen, and they had slipped down it one at a time.

“Well, of course, we raced down the stairs like acrobats, but by the time we got to the bottom the cab was off with a fine start.  We ran out into Victoria Street, and there we could see it half-way down the street and going like a chariot race.  We managed to pick up another hansom and told the cabby to keep the other one in sight, and away we went like the very deuce; along Victoria Street and Broad Sanctuary, across Parliament Square, over Westminster Bridge and along York Road; we kept the other beggar in sight, but we couldn’t gain an inch on him.  Then we turned into Waterloo Station, and, as we were driving up the slope we met another hansom coming down; and when the cabby kissed his hand and smiled at us, we guessed that he was the sportsman we had been following.

“But there was no time to ask questions.  It is an awkward station with a lot of different exits, and it looked a good deal as if our quarry had got away.  However, I took a chance.  I remembered that the Southampton express was due to start about this time, and I took a short cut across the lines and made for the platform that it starts from.  Just as Badger and I got to the end, about thirty yards from the rear of the train, we saw a man and a woman running in front of us.  Then the guard blew his whistle and the train began to move.  The man and the woman managed to scramble into one of the rear compartments and Badger and I raced up the platform like mad.  A porter tried to head