CHAPTER II

Upstairs, in the privacy of his bedroom, Pellison, unpacking his bag, let his mind get to work on the man he had just seen. A good many queer characters had passed through his hands at one time or another—crooks, national and international; criminals, casual and habitual; fraudulent debtors; thieves; burglars; doubtful and shady men about town. To which category did this man belong? For that he had had dealings with him, Pellison was as certain as he was that that was the old Moot Hall clock striking five. Who—whic…