“Why don’t the police take a hand in the matter if the man is such a nuisance?” Sir Timothy asked.

His new acquaintance, gripping a thick tumbler of spirits and water with a hand deeply encrusted with the stains of his trade, scoffed.

“Police!  Why, ’e’d take on any three of the police round these parts!” he declared.  “Police!  You tell one on ’em that Billy the Tanner’s on the rampage, and you’ll see ’em ’op it.  Cheero, guvnor and don’t you get curious about Billy.  It ain’t ’ealthy.”

The swing-door was suddenly opened.  A touslehaired urchin shoved his face in.

“Billy the Tanner’s coming!” he shouted.  “Cave, all!  He’s been ‘avin’ a rare to-do in Smith’s Court.”

Then a curious thing happened.  The little crowd at the bar seemed somehow to melt away.  Half-a-dozen left precipitately by the door.  Half-a-dozen more slunk through an inner entrance into some room beyond.  Sir Timothy’s neighbour set down his tumbler empty.  He was the last to leave.

“If you’re going to stop ’ere, guvnor,” he begged fervently, “you keep a still tongue in your ’ead.  Billy ain’t particular who it is.  ’E’d kill ’is own mother, if ’e felt like it.  ’E’ll swing some day, sure as I stand ’ere, but ’e’ll do a bit more mischief first.  ’Op it with me, guvnor, or get inside there.”

“Jim’s right,” the man behind the bar agreed.  “He’s a very nasty customer, Bill the Tanner, sir.  If he’s coming down, I’d clear out for a moment.  You can go in the guvnor’s sitting-room, if you like.”

Sir Timothy shook his head.

“Billy the Tanner will not hurt me,” he said.  “As a matter of fact, I came down to see him.”

His new friend hesitated no longer but made for the door through which most of his companions had already disappeared.  The barman leaned across the counter.

“Guvnor,” he whispered hoarsely, “I don’t know what the game is, but I’ve given you the office.  Billy won’t stand no truck from any one.  He’s a holy terror.”

Sir Timothy nodded.

“I quite understand,” he said.

There was a moment’s ominous silence.  The barman withdrew to the further end of his domain and busied himself cleaning some glasses.  Suddenly the door was swung open.  A man entered whose appearance alone was calculated to inspire a certain amount of fear.  He was tall, but his height escaped notice by reason of the extraordinary breadth of his shoulders.  He had a coarse and vicious face, a crop of red hair, and an unshaven growth of the same upon his face.  He wore what appeared to be the popular dress in the neighbourhood—­a pair of trousers suspended by a belt, and a dirty flannel shirt.  His hands and even his chest, where the shirt fell away, were discoloured by yellow stains.  He looked around the room at first with an air of disappointment.  Then he caught sight of Sir Timothy standing at the counter, and he brightened up.