“Entirely between ourselves and this most comfortable room, I have never believed in his existence for a moment,” replied Whyland readily. “But what could I do? That young rip, Wal Snyder, swore to having seen him, and I couldn’t shake him.”

“Whether young Snyder saw him or not,” remarked the herbalist, “your reward has made him a very real person to the poorer classes of this district. One or other of my customers sees him every night, usually during the hour which immediately follows the closing of the public houses. And, as a rule, they come here hotfoot to tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ludgrove,” laughed Whyland. “I wouldn’t have done it if I could have helped it. By the way, I suppose that you are perfectly satisfied that none of these odd customers of yours know anything about this business?”