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before they reached the flat. Rollison paid the driver off, adding a pound to the fare, and walked upstairs with the man’s gusty thanks ringing in his ears.
    Jolly had gone ahead.
    Afterwards, Rollison knew that he should have been prepared for some such development, although he had not thought of the possibility of a visit to the flat so early. As it was, he stepped inside the little hall, and saw Jolly standing motionless, with his back towards him, just inside the drawing room. “What—” he began.
    â€œThat’s enough from you, Rollison,” said a voice from behind him.
    Rollison forced himself not to turn too hastily, but his heart began to thump. The voice was that of the thick-set man whom he had seen at the back of Whiting’s house. He caught a glimpse of the owner of the educated voice, standing in front of Jolly. He got the impression that Jolly was being held up at the point of a gun, as he turned to look into the curiously docile looking brown eyes of the man with the growling voice.
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CHAPTER FIVE
“I’m Keller.”
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    Once he had recovered from the surprise, Rollison smiled into the man’s face.
    â€œHarry Keller, I presume,” he said.
    â€œI’m Keller, yes,” answered the thick-set man. “When are you going to stop nosing into other people’s business?”
    â€œIt’s a congenital failing, I’m afraid,” said Rollison, sadly, “I can’t help myself.”
    â€œYou’ll help yourself this time,” said Keller.
    His assurance in itself was puzzling. If the visitors had planned an attack it would probably have been made when Rollison had walked unsuspectingly into the hall. It appeared more likely that Keller had come to reason with him, and that was puzzling.
    â€œWhat makes you think so?” he inquired politely.
    â€œWe don’t want that big parson around, and we don’t intend to let him stay, Toff or no Toff. Nothing you can do will make any difference, but if you don’t lay off, you will get hurt.”
    â€œOh, dear,” said Rollison, blankly.
    â€œI mean hurt,” repeated Keller, harshly. “It won’t help you to run to the dicks. They can’t get at me, and I’m too powerful for you on your own. It’s time you stayed where you belong.”
    â€œWhere do you think that is?” asked Rollison.
    â€œIn the West End with all your fancy tarts and your wealthy friends,” said Keller. “This isn’t a game for you, Rollison. You might get your hands dirty.” Rollison watched his mobile features, seeing the way his lips curled and his eyebrows rose. Keller was an impressive personality; it would be folly to underestimate him. “You stay in Mayfair, Rollison, and if you must stick your nose into things that don’t concern you, there’s plenty of cleaning up to be done in your own back yard. But you wouldn’t try that, would you? You might find your precious friends are mixed up in it.”
    â€œIn what?” asked Rollison, obtusely.
    â€œYou know what,” rasped Keller. “I’m telling you to stick around your own back yard and not meddle in mine.”
    â€œA whole world, all of your own?” asked Rollison.
    â€œIf you won’t take a warning, don’t blame me for anything that happens. I don’t want to interfere with you. You let me alone, I’ll let you alone.”
    â€œNow who could say fairer than that?” asked Rollison, lightly. “What would you say if a policeman were to walk into the fiat this minute?” He studied the man curiously, and thought he had him guessing. “I don’t suggest that it’s likely, but I have all sorts of queer friends. I’d say to him: ‘Bill’ – or Percy, or whatever his name happened to be – ‘this is Harry Keller. He employed Spike Adams and Tom Harris to beat up the Rev. Ronald Kemp. He employed others to