he　was　a　liar；　if　they　were　true　he　had　had；　at　any　rate；　every　opportunity　of　being　a　scamp。
  He　had　just　left　the　room　in　which　I　sat　with　Basil　Grant　and　his　brother　Rupert；　the　voluble　amateur　detective。　And　as　I　say　was　invariably　the　case；　we　were　all　talking　about　him。　Rupert　Grant　was　a　clever　young　fellow；　but　he　had　that　tendency　which　youth　and　cleverness；　when　sharply　combined；　so　often　produce；　a　somewhat　extravagant　scepticism。　He　saw　doubt　and　guilt　everywhere；　and　it　was　meat　and　drink　to　him。　I　had　often　got　irritated　with　this　boyish　incredulity　of　his；　but　on　this　particular　occasion　I　am　bound　to　say　that　I　thought　him　so　obviously　right　that　I　was　astounded　at　Basil's　opposing　him；　however　banteringly。
  I　could　swallow　a　good　deal；　being　naturally　of　a　simple　turn；　but　I　could　not　swallow　Lieutenant　Keith's　autobiography。
  〃You　don't　seriously　mean；　Basil；〃　I　said；　〃that　you　think　that　that　fellow　really　did　go　as　a　stowaway　with　Nansen　and　pretend　to　be　the　Mad　Mullah　and〃
  〃He　has　one　fault；〃　said　Basil　thoughtfully；　〃or　virtue；　as　you　may　happen　to　regard　it。　He　tells　the　truth　in　too　exact　and　bald　a　style；　he　is　too　veracious。〃
  〃Oh！　if　you　are　going　to　be　paradoxical；〃　said　Rupert　contemptuously；　〃be　a　bit　funnier　than　that。　Say；　for　instance；　that　he　has　lived　all　his　life　in　one　ancestral　manor。〃
  〃No；　he's　extremely　fond　of　change　of　scene；〃　replied　Basil　dispassionately；　〃and　of　living　in　odd　places。　That　doesn't　prevent　his　chief　trait　being　verbal　exactitude。　What　you　people　don't　understand　is　that　telling　a　thing　crudely　and　coarsely　as　it　happened　makes　it　sound　frightfully　strange。　The　sort　of　things　Keith　recounts　are　not　the　sort　of　things　that　a　man　would　make　up　to　cover　himself　with　honour；　they　are　too　absurd。　But　they　are　the　sort　of　things　that　a　man　would　do　if　he　were　sufficiently　filled　with　the　soul　of　skylarking。〃
  〃So　far　from　paradox；〃　said　his　brother；　with　something　rather　like　a　sneer；　〃you　seem　to　be　going　in　for　journalese　proverbs。　Do　you　believe　that　truth　is　stranger　than　fiction？〃
  〃Truth　must　of　necessity　be　stranger　than　fiction；〃　said　Basil　placidly。　〃For　fiction　is　the　creation　of　the　human　mind；　and　therefore　is　congenial　to　it。〃
  〃Well；　your　lieutenant's　truth　is　stranger；　if　it　is　truth；　than　anything　I　ever　heard　of；〃　said　Rupert；　relapsing　into　flippancy。　〃Do　you；　on　your　soul；　believe　in　all　that　about　the　shark　and　the　camera？〃
  〃I　believe　Keith's　words；〃　answered　the　other。　〃He　is　an　honest　man。〃
  〃I　should　like　to　question　a　regiment　of　his　landladies；〃　said　Rupert　cynically。
  〃I　must　say；　I　think　you　can　hardly　regard　him　as　unimpeachable　merely　in　himself；〃　I　said　mildly；　〃his　mode　of　life〃
  Before　I　could　complete　the　sentence　the　door　was　flung　open　and　Drummond　Keith　appeared　again　on　the　threshold；　his　white　Panama　on　his　head。
  〃I　say；　Grant；〃　he　said；　knocking　off　his　cigarette　ash　against　the　door；　〃I've　got　no　money　in　the　world　till　next　April。　Could　you　lend　me　a　hundred　pounds？　There's　a　good　chap。〃
  Rupert　and　I　looked　at　each　other　in　an　ironical　silence。　Basil；　who　was　sitting　by　his　desk；　swung　the　chair　round　idly　on　its　screw　and　picked　up　a　quill…pen。
  〃Shall　I　cross　it？〃　he　asked；　opening　a　cheque…book。
  〃Really；〃　began　Rupert；　with　a　rather　nervous　loudness；　〃since　Lieutenant　Keith　has　seen　fit　to　make　this　suggestion　to　Basil　before　his　family；　I〃
  〃Here　you　are；　Ugly；〃　said　Basil；　fluttering　a　cheque　in　the　direction　of　the　quite　nonchalant　officer。　〃Are　you　in　a　hurry？〃
  〃Yes；〃　replied　Keith；　in　a　rather　abrupt　way。　〃As　a　matter　of　fact　I　want　it　now。　I　want　to　see　myerbusiness　man。〃
  Rupert　was　eyeing　him　sarcastically；　and　I　could　see　that　it　was　on　the　tip　of　his　tongue　to　say；　inquiringly；　〃Receiver　of　stolen　goods；　perhaps。〃　What　he　did　say　was：
  〃A　business　man？　That's　rather　a　general　description；　Lieutenant　Keith。〃
  Keith　looked　at　him　sharply；　and　then　said；　with　something　rather　like　ill…temper：
  〃He's　a　thingum…my…bob；　a　house…agent；　say。　I'm　going　to　see　him。〃
  〃Oh；　you're　going　to　see　a　house…agent；　are　you？〃　said　Rupert　Grant　grimly。　〃Do　you　know；　Mr　Keith；　I　think　I　should　very　much　like　to　go　with　you？〃
  Basil　shook　with　his　soundless　laughter。　Lieutenant　Keith　started　a　little；　his　brow　blackened　sharply。
  〃I　beg　your　pardon；〃　he　said。　〃What　did　you　say？〃
  Rupert's　face　had　been　growing　from　stage　to　stage　of　ferocious　irony；　and　he　answered：
  〃I　was　saying　that　I　wondered　whether　you　would　mind　our　strolling　along　with　you　to　this　house…agent's。〃
  The　visitor　swung　his　stick　with　a　sudden　whirling　violence。
  〃Oh；　in　God's　name；　come　to　my　house…agent's！　Come　to　my　bedroom。　Look　under　my　bed。　Examine　my　dust…bin。　Come　along！〃　And　with　a　furious　energy　which　took　away　our　breath　he　banged　his　way　out　of　the　room。
  Rupert　Grant；　his　restless　blue　eyes　dancing　with　his　detective　excitement；　soon　shouldered　alongside　him；　talking　to　him　with　that　transparent　camaraderie　which　he　imagined　to　be　appropriate　from　the　disguised　policeman　to　the　disguised　criminal。　His　interpretation　was　certainly　corroborated　by　one　particular　detail；　the　unmistakable　unrest；　annoyance；　and　nervousness　of　the　man　with　whom　he　walked。　Basil　and　I　tramped　behind；　and　it　was　not　necessary　for　us　to　tell　each　other　that　we　had　both　noticed　this。
  Lieutenant　Drummond　Keith　led　us　through　very　extraordinary　and　unpromising　neighbourhoods　in　the　search　for　his　remarkable　house…agent。　Neither　of　the　brothers　Grant　failed　to　notice　this　fact。　As　the　streets　grew　closer　and　more　crooked　and　the　roofs　lower　and　the　gutters　grosser　with　mud；　a　darker　curiosity　deepened　on　the　brows　of　Basil；　and　the　figure　of　Rupert　seen　from　behind　seemed　to　fill　the　street　with　a　gigantic　swagger　of　success。　At　length；　at　the　end　of　the　fourth　or　fifth　lean　grey　street　in　that　sterile　district；　we　came　suddenly　to　a　halt；　the　mysterious　lieutenant　looking　once　more　about　him　with　a　sort　of　sulky　desperation。　Above　a　row　of　shutters　and　a　door；　all　indescribably　dingy　in　appearance　and　in　size　scarce　sufficient　even　for　a　penny　toyshop；　ran　the　inscription：　〃P。　Montmorency；　House…Agent。〃
  〃This　is　the　office　of　which　I　spoke；〃　said　Keith；　in　a　cutting　voice。　〃Will　you　wait　here　a　moment；　or　does　your　astonishing　tenderness　about　my　welfare　lead　you　to　wish　to　overhear　everything　I　have　to　say　to　my　business　adviser？〃
  Rupert's　face　was　white　and　shaking　with　excitement；　nothing　on　earth　would　have　induced　him　now　to　have　abandoned　his　prey。
  〃If　you　will　excuse　me；〃　he　said；　clenching　his　hands　behind　his　back；　〃I　think　I　should　feel　myself　justified　in〃
  〃Oh！　Come　along　in；〃　exploded　the　lieutenant。　He　made　the　same　gesture　of　savage　surrender。　And　he　slammed　into　the　office；　the　rest　of　us　at　his　heels。
  P。　Montmorency；　House…Agent；　was　a　solitary　old　gentleman　sitting　behind　a　bare　brown　counter。　He　had　an　egglike　head；　froglike　jaws；　and　a　grey　hairy　fringe　of　aureole　round　the　lower　part　of　his　face；　the　whole　combined　with　a　reddish；　aquiline　nose。　He　wore　a　shabby　black　frock…coat；　a　sort　of　semi…clerical　tie　worn　at　a　very　unclerical　angle；　and　looked；　generally　speaking；　about　as　unlike　a　house…agent　as　anything　could　look；　short　of　something　like　a　sandwich　man　or　a　Scotch　Highlander。
  We　stood　inside　the　room　for　fully　forty　seconds；　and　the　odd　old　gentleman　did　not　look　at　us。　Neither；　to　tell　the　truth；　odd　as　he　was；　did　we　look　at　him。　Our　eyes　were　fixed；　where　his　were　fixed；　upon　something　that　was　crawling　about　on　the　counter　in　front　of　him。　It　was　a　ferret。
  The　silence　was　broken　by　Rupert　Grant。　He　spoke　in　that　sweet　and　steely　voice　which　he　reserved　for　great　occasions　and　practised　for　hours　together　in　his　bedroom。　He　said：
  〃Mr　Montmorency；　I　think？〃
  The　old　gentleman　started；　lifted　his　eyes　with　a　bland　bewilderment；　picked　up　the　ferret　by　the　neck；　stuffed　it　alive　into　his　trousers　pocket；　smiled　apologetically；　and　said：
  〃Sir。〃
  〃You　are　a　house…agent；　are　you　not？〃　asked　Rupert。
  To　the　delight　of　that　criminal　investigator；　Mr　Montmorency's　eyes　wandered　unquietly　towards　Lieutenant　Keith；　the　only　man　present　that　he　knew。
  〃A　house…agent；〃　cried　Rupert　again；　bringing　out　the　word　as　if　it　were　〃burglar'。
  〃Yes　。　。　。　oh；　yes；〃　said　the　man；　with　a　quavering　and　almost　coquettish　smile。　〃I　am　a　house…agent　。　。　。　oh；　yes。〃
  〃Well；　I　think；〃　said　Rupert；　with　a　sardonic　sleekness；　〃that　Lieutenant　Keith　wants　to　speak　to　you。　We　have　come　in　by　his　request。〃
  Lieutenant　Keith　was　lowering　gloomily；　and　now　he　spoke。
  〃I　have　come；　Mr　Montmorency；　about　that　house　of　mine。〃
  〃Yes；　sir；〃　said　Montmorency；　spreading　his　fingers　on　the　flat　counter。　〃It's　all　ready；　sir。　I've　attended　to　all　your　suggestions　erabout　the　br〃
  〃Right；〃　cried　Keith；　cutting　the　word　short　with　the　startling　neatness　of　a　gunshot。　〃We　needn't　bother　about　all　that。　If　you've　done　what　I　told　you；　all　right。〃
  And　he　turned　sharply　towards　the　door。
  Mr　Montmorency；　House…Agent；　presented　a　picture　of　pathos。　After　stammering　a　moment　he　said：　〃Excuse　me　。　。　。　Mr　Keith　。　。　。　there　was　another　matter　。　。　。　about　which　I　wasn't　quite　sure。　I　tried　to　get　all　t