“Ain’t you now,
officer?”

I saw no reason why I should conceal the fact, even from this strange
visitor. I admitted that I was eager for promotion. “Ah!” he said, with a satisfied smile; “I’m glad o’ that. It’ll make you
all the keener. Now, officer, you listen to me. I’m a-goin’ to put you
on to a nice little job. Ah! I dessay you’ll be a sergeant before long,
you will. You’ll be complimented and praised for your clever conduck in
this ’ere affair. Mark my words if you ain’t.”

“Out with it,” I said, fancying I saw through the man’s meaning. “You’re
going to split on some of your pals, I suppose, and you’ll want a
reward.”

He shook his head. “A reward,” he said, “wouldn’t be no use to me at
all--no, not if it was a thousand pounds. No, it ain’t nothing to do
with reward. But now, officer, did you ever hear of Light Toed Jim?”

Light Toed Jim! I should have been a poor detective if I had not. Why,
the man known under that sobriquet was one of the cleverest burglars and
thieves in England, and had enjoyed such a famous career that his name
was a household word. At that moment there was an additional interest
attached to him. He had been convicted of burglary at the Northminster
assizes in 1871, and sentenced to ten years’ penal servitude. After
serving nearly two years of his time he had escaped from Portland,
getting away in such clever fashion that he had never been heard of
since. Where he was no one could say; but lately there had been a strong
suspicion among the police that Light Toed Jim was at his old tricks
again. “Light Toed Jim!” I repeated. “I should think so. Why, what do you know
about him?”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Light Toed Jim,” said he, “is in
Westford at this ’ere hidentical moment. Listen to me, officer. Light
Toed Jim is a-goin’ to crack a crib to-night. Said crib is the mansion
of Miss Singleton, that ’ere rich old lady as lives out on the Mapleton
Road. You know her--awfully rich, with naught but women servants and
animals about the place. There’s some very valyable plate there. That’s
what Light Toed Jim’s after. He’ll get in through the scullery window
about 1 a. m., then he’ll pass through the back and front kitchens and
into the butler’s pantry--only it’s a butleress, ’cos there ain’t no men
at all--and there he’ll set to work on the safe. Some of his late pals
in Portland give him the tip about this ’ere job.”

“How did you come to hear of it?” I asked. “Never mind, guv’nor. You wouldn’t understand. Now, I wants you to be up
there to-night and to nab Light Toed Jim red-handed, so to speak. It’ll
mean promotion for you, and it’ll suit me down to the ground. You wants
to be about and to watch him enter. Then follow him and dog him. And be
armed, officer, for Jim’ll fight like a tiger if you don’t draw his
teeth first.”

“Now, look here, my man,” said I, “this is all very well, but it’s all
irregular. You must just tell me who you are and how you come to be in
Light Toed Jim’s secrets, and I’ll put it down in black and white.”

I turned away from him to get my writing materials. I was not half a
minute with my back to him, but when I turned round he was gone. The
door was shut, but I had heard no sound from it either opening or
shutting. Quick as thought I darted to it, tore it wide open, and looked
down the narrow staircase. There was no one there. I ran hastily
downstairs into the passage, and found my landlady, Mrs. Marriner,
standing at the open door with a female friend. “Mrs. Marriner,” I said,
breaking in upon their conversation, “which way did that man go who came
downstairs just now?”

Mrs. Marriner looked at me strangely. “There ain’t been no man come
downstairs, Mr. Parker,” said she; “leastways, not this good
three-quarters of an hour, which me and Missis Higgins ’ere, as ’ave
come out to take an airing, her having been ironin’ all this blessed
day, has been standin’ ’ere all the time and ain’t never seen a soul.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “A man came down from my room just now--the man you
sent up twenty minutes since.”

Mrs. Marriner looked at me with an expression betokening the most
profound astonishment. Mrs. Higgins sighed deeply. “Mr. Parker,” said Mrs. Marriner, “sorry am I to say it, sir, but you’re
either intoxicated or else you’re a-sickening for brain fever, sir. There ain’t no person entered this door, in or out, for nigh onto an
hour, as me and Missis Higgins ’ere will take our Bible oaths on.”

I went upstairs and looked in the rooms on either side of mine. The man
was not there. I looked under my bed, and of course he was not there. He
must have gone downstairs. But then the women must have seen him. There
was only one door to the house. I gave it up in despair and began to
smoke my pipe. By the time I had drawn the last whiff I decided that if
anyone was “intoxicated,” it was probably Mrs. Marriner and Mrs.
Higgins, and that my strange visitor had departed by the door. I was not
going to believe that he had anything supernatural about him. I had no duty that night, and as the hours wore on I found myself stern
in my resolve to go up to Miss Singleton’s house and see what I could
make out of my informant’s story. It was my opinion that my late visitor
was a whilom “pal” of Light Toed Jim, and that having become aware of
the latter’s plot, he had, for some reason of his own, decided to split
on his old chum. Thieves’ disagreement is an honest man’s opportunity,
and I determined to solve the truth of the story told me. Lest it should
come to nothing, I decided not to report the matter to my chief. If I
could really capture Light Toed Jim, my success would be all the more
brilliant by being suddenly sprung upon the authorities. I made my plan of action rapidly. I took a revolver with me and went up
to Miss Singleton’s house. Fortunately, I knew the housekeeper there--a
middle-aged, strong-minded woman, not easily frightened, which was a
good thing. To her I communicated such information as I considered
necessary. She consented to conceal me in the room where the safe stood. There was a cupboard close by the safe from which I could command a full
view of the burglar’s operations and pounce upon him at the right
moment. If only my information was to be relied upon, there was every
chance of my capturing the famous burglar. Soon after midnight, when the house was all quiet, I went to the pantry
and got into the cupboard, locking myself in. There were two openings
in the panel, through either of which I was able to command a full view
of the room. My position was somewhat cramped, but the time soon passed
away. My mind was principally occupied in wondering if I was really
about to have a chance of distinguishing myself. Somehow, there was an
air of unreality about the events of the evening which puzzled me. Suddenly I heard a sound which put me on the alert at once. It was
nothing more than the creaking of a board or opening of a door would
make in a quiet house; but it sounded intensified to my expectant ears.