the same direction, and, with a little start, I recognised Grady and
Simmonds, with M. Pigot between them. Evidently Grady had felt it
incumbent upon himself to make good his promise in the most liberal
manner, and to display the wonders of the Great White Way from end to
end--the ceremony no doubt involving the introduction of the stranger
to a number of typical American drinks--and the result of all this
was that Grady's legs wobbled perceptibly. As a matter of racial
comparison, I glanced at M. Pigot's, but they seemed in every way
normal.

"Hello, Lester," said Simmonds, in a voice which showed that he had
not wholly escaped the influences of the evening's celebration; and
even Grady condescended to nod, from which I inferred that he was
feeling very unusually happy.

"Hello, Simmonds," I answered, and, as I turned westward with them,
he dropped back and; fell into step beside me.

"Piggott is certainly a wonder," he said. "A regular sport--wanted to
see everything and taste everything. He says Paris ain't in the same
class with this town."

"Where are you going now?" I asked.

"We're going round to the station. Piggott says he's got a sensation
up his sleeve for us--it's got something to do with that cabinet."

"With the cabinet?"

"Yes--that shiny thing Godfrey got me to lock up in a cell."