Tol-de-rol!" As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture. But the influence of the science radiated far beyond its own special field— beyond those beautiful but highly technical problems with which we do not propose for a moment to trouble the naturally terrified reader. “There was a keg, hash, LSD, pot, you know, the usual. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. ” The detective nodded. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. Or appeared to do so. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture.
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