"Spike," said Jimmy.     

       "Huh?"     

       "Have you a thorough knowledge of chemistry, physics—"     

       "On your way, boss!"     

       "—toxicology—"     

       "Search me!"     

       "—electricity and microscopy?"     

       "... Nine, ten. Dat's de finish. I'm down an' out."     

       Jimmy shook his head, sadly.     

       "Give up burglary," he said. "It's not in your line. Better try poultry-farming."     

       Spike twiddled his glass, abashed.     

       "Now, I," said Jimmy airily, "am thinking of breaking into a house to-night."     

       "Gee!" exclaimed Spike, his suspicions confirmed at last. "I t'ought youse was in de game, boss. Sure, you're de guy dat's onto all de curves. I t'ought so all along."     

       "I should like to hear," said Jimmy amusedly, as one who draws out an intelligent child, "how you would set about burgling one of those up-town villas. My own work has been on a somewhat larger scale and on the other side of the Atlantic."     

       "De odder side?"     

       "I have done as much in London, as anywhere else," said Jimmy. "A great town, London, full of opportunities for the fine worker. Did you hear of the cracking of the New Asiatic Bank in Lombard Street?"     

       "No, boss," whispered Spike. "Was dat you?"     

       Jimmy laughed.     

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