during two whole days. That makes me suspicious. What's he up to? Can you
throw a light on him, Peters?"

The journalist knew that he was being told peremptorily to cease prying.
He kicked Hart under the table.

"Hi!" yelled Wally. "What's the matter? Strike your matches on your own
shin, not mine."

"Peters is announcing that the discussion is now closed," said
Winter firmly.

"Very well. He needn't emphasize the warning by a hob-nailed boot. When
my injured feelings have recovered I'll discourse to you of strange folk
and stranger doings on the banks of the Rio de la Plata, and your stock
as an Argentine plutocrat will rise one hundred per cent, next time
you're badgered by a man who knows the country."

"Meanwhile, Robinson is hot-foot on the Elkin trail," laughed Peters.
"His face was a study to-day when the groom supplied details of the
picture-buying."

"Furneaux wanted that transaction to be widely known," said Winter. "He
gave every publicity to it."

"Did he secure a bargain, I wonder?" said Grant.

"Oh, I expect so. He doesn't waste his hard-earned money, even for
official purposes."