to be as much an artist in my profession as Paganini was in his, and I
claim also a like courtesy from you. So, then, if in the future it
becomes necessary to allude to me--and I fear it often will--I shall be
obliged if you do so as 'The Man Who Calls Himself Hamilton Cleek.' In
return for that courtesy, gentlemen, I promise to alter my mode of
procedure, to turn over a new leaf, as it were, to give you at all times
hereafter distinct information, in advance, of such places as I elect
for the field of my operations, and of the time when I shall pay my
respects to them, and, on the morning after each such visit, to bestow
some small portion of the loot upon Scotland Yard as a souvenir of the
event."

And to that remarkable programme he rigidly adhered from that time
forth--always giving the police twelve hours' notice, always evading
their traps and snares, always carrying out his plans in spite of them,
and always, on the morning after, sending some trinket or trifle to
Superintendent Narkom at Scotland Yard, in a little pink cardboard box,
tied up with rose-coloured ribbon, and marked "With the compliments of
The Man Who Calls Himself Hamilton Cleek."

The detectives of the United Kingdom, the detectives of the Continent,
the detectives of America--each and all had measured swords with him,
tried wits with him, spread snares and laid traps for him, and each and
all had retired from the field vanquished.

And this was the man that he--Police Constable Samuel James Collins--had
actually had in his hands; nay, in his very arms, and then had given up
for half a sovereign and let go!

"Oh, so help me! You make my head swim, Smathers, that you do!" he