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Swinburne examined himself in the mirror and groaned.

"I've modelled for the Pre-Raphaelites," he muttered, "but I don't think they'd want to paint me today. I look awful!"

The final room, which had belonged to Rajish Thakarta, contained a great many toy soldiers which the boy had cleverly carved from pieces of wood. His penknife was on the table, alongside a tattered book embossed with Sanskrit lettering. Burton recognised it as the Bhagavad Gita.

The wardrobe contained rather more clothes than those in the other rooms, including a small sherwani, the long coatlike garment common to South Asia. The boy obviously clung to his roots, though an orphan and far from his homeland.

As they moved back into the hallway, Burton stopped and looked thoughtful. He glanced at Swinburne, then at the two little chimney sweeps who were sheltering shyly behind Ebenezer Smike, then went into each of the three rooms once again and looked at the footwear in each.

He came out and suddenly squatted on his haunches and smiled at the two boys. Swinburne grinned, amazed at the way his friend's habitually ferocious expression seemed to melt away.

"I have two shillings, lads," said Burton. "Would you like to earn them-a bob apiece?"

"Not half?" they both hollered enthusiastically. They pushed past their landlord to stand before him.

"What do we have to do, Mister?" asked one.

"What's your name, son?"

"Charlie, sir; this is Ned."

"Well, Charlie and Ned, all you have to do is answer a question."

"Yes, sir?"

"Were the three boys who occupied these rooms tall?"

"Oh yes, sir!" they chorused.

"Regular giants, they were!" cried the youngster named Ned.

Burton nodded. "So older, eh?"

"No, not a bit of it! Just big 'uns, is all, sir!"

"Good lads," encouraged Burton. "Now, I have another question. If you think carefully about it and answer it truthfully, I'll add a sixpence each."

"Crumbs!" breathed Charlie.

"First of all," said Burton, "do you know the other boys who've disappeared recently?"

"Yes, Mister."

"I'm aware that most of them have come back. It's the ones who haven't that I want to ask you about."

"That'll be Jacob, Raj, and Benny, and Paul Kelly, Ed Trip, Mickey Smith, Lofty Sanderson, Thicko Chris Williams, and Ben Prentiss," said Charlie, counting the names off on his fingers.

"And Aubrey Baxter," added Ned. "He was snatched the other night."

"And those boys," said Burton, "were they tall, too?"

"I say! They certainly were!" cried Charlie excitedly. "They're some o' the tallest sweeps in the League, ain't that right, Ned?"

"Excepting Aubrey, what's a nipper like us, yes; beanpoles, the lot of em!" responded Ned.

"Thank you, boys-here are your wages."

He placed the coins in their eager little hands and rose to his feet, turning to Ebenezer Smike as the children scampered away as if afraid he might change his mind and demand the money back.

"Thank you, Mr. Smike. We won't take up any more of your time."

"You've seen all you need?"

"Yes, I believe so. We'll leave you in peace."

Smike accompanied them to the front door and, as they stood on the step and shook his hand, asked, "The young 'uns, sir-will they be back?"

"That I can't answer, I'm afraid," replied Burton.

He and Swinburne took their leave and strolled toward New Kent Road, intending to pick up a cab there.

"Interesting," muttered Burton. "It's the tall boys who aren't returning. What does that mean, I wonder?"

"But I say!" cried Swinburne. "What the dickens put you on that particular track?"

"You did! When you were looking into the mirror in Jacob Spratt's room I realised that it was leaning against the wall at an angle exactly suited to someone of your height; considerably taller than little Ned and Charlie. I then checked the shoes and slippers in the rooms and saw that they were all of a comparatively large size."

"Auguste Dupin!" screeched the poet excitedly, jumping around the older man like a whirling dervish.

"Calm down, you silly