understand. But if you would let him call around quiet-like, on you--"

John Steele replaced the note-book. "On me?" He spoke slowly; Dandy Joe
regarded him with small crafty eyes. "I hardly think the case will prove
sufficiently attractive."

The other made no answer; looked away thoughtfully; at the same moment
the proprietor stepped in. Steele took the change that was laid on the
table, leaving a half-crown, which he indicated that Dandy Joe could
appropriate.

"Better not think of going now, sir," the proprietor said to John
Steele. "Never saw anything like it the way the fog has thickened; a man
couldn't get across London to-night to save his neck."

"Couldn't he?" Dandy Joe stepped toward the door. "I'm going to have a
try."

A mist blew in; Dandy Joe went out. John Steele waited a moment, then
with a perfunctory nod, walked quietly to the front door. The man had
not exaggerated the situation; the fog lay before him like a thick
yellow blanket. He looked in the direction his late companion had
turned; his figure was just discernible; in a moment it would have been
swallowed by the fog, when quickly John Steele walked after him.

* * * * *