in the Carlton grill-room and drink at the Cecil you can pick up more
good stories than we can print. You will find lots of your friends over
there. Some of those girls who married dukes," he suggested, "know you,
don't they?"

"Not since they married dukes," said Ford.

"Well, anyway, all your other friends will be there," continued the
managing editor encouragingly. "Now that they have shut up the tracks
here all the con men have gone to London. They say an American can't
take a drink at the Salisbury without his fellow-countrymen having a
fight as to which one will sell him a gold brick."

Ford's eyes lightened in pleasurable anticipation.

"Look them over," urged the managing editor, "and send us a special.
Call it 'The American Invasion.' Don't you see a story in it?"

"It will be the first one I send you," said Ford. The ship's doctor
returned from his visit below decks and sank into the leather cushion
close to Ford's elbow. For a few moments the older man sipped doubtfully
at his gin and water, and, as though perplexed, rubbed his hand over his
bald and shining head. "I told her to talk to you," he said fretfully.

"Her? Who?" inquired Ford. "Oh, the widow?"

"You were right about that," said Doctor Sparrow; "she is not a widow."

The reporter smiled complacently.