interested you in him, that you know a trustee with money to
invest--anything you like that is plausible. When are you going to see
him?"

"The first thing in the morning," replied Kennedy. "After I have seen
him I shall drop in for another chat with you. Will you be here?"

The doctor promised, and we took our departure.

Prescott's laboratory, which we found the next day from the address
on the card, proved to be situated in one of the streets near the
waterfront under the bridge approach, where the factories and
warehouses clustered thickly. It was with a great deal of anticipation
of seeing something happen that we threaded our way through the maze
of streets with the cobweb structure of the bridge, carrying its
endless succession of cars arching high over our heads. We had nearly
reached the place when Kennedy paused and pulled out two pairs of
glasses, those huge round tortoiseshell affairs.

"You needn't mind these, Walter," he explained. "They are only plain
glass, that is, not ground. You can see through them as well as
through air. We must be careful not to excite suspicion. Perhaps a
disguise might have been better, but I think this will do. There--they
add at least a decade to your age. If you could see yourself you
wouldn't speak to your reflection. You look as scholarly as a Chinese
mandarin. Remember, let me do the talking and do just as I do."

We had now entered the shop, stumbled up the dark stairs, and
presented Dr. Burnham's card with a word of explanation along the
lines which he had suggested. Prescott, surrounded by his retorts,