At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. “Really it is very kind of you to have found me out. Besides, you have so many talents, you build things. Sheppard. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night.
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