"Now, Mr.Sydney Green--or shall I call you, Mr.Derrick Dene ?" Mr.Clendon started slightly and bent his piercing eyes on Derrick, who coloured and bit his lip.
"Yes, that's my name," he said; "but I don't know how you know it." "My dear Mr.Dene," said Mr.Jacobs, blandly, "we people in Scotland Yard know a great many things.

Just as an instance, let me tell you what I know about you.

You were placed at an early age in the care of a worthy couple named Jackson, who brought you up and started you in the profession which I am sure you will adorn.

Owing to a--well, let us say, a misunderstanding--you left England--er--somewhat abruptly, and went with a travelling circus to South America; in South America you left the circus and found employment on a ranch, owned by a lady named Donna Elvira----" Derrick, frowning, stared at him and did not notice that Mr.Clendon had quietly sunk into a chair and, with his hands leaning on his stick, was looking fixedly at Derrick.
"You want to know how we came to know all this ?" said Mr.Jacobs, cheerfully.

"Well, we had the little affair of the forged cheque placed in our hands, and were following it up when a Mr.Brown, the Sutcombe family solicitor, stepped in and stopped us.