"Then I pray you open the fish at once," said Harleston. "I can't assist
you in my present attitude, so get along, Mr. Crenshaw, if you please.
You interrupted my dinner--I was just at the soup; and you may believe
me when I say that I'm a bit hungry."

"With your permission," Crenshaw replied, proceeding to go through
Harleston's pockets, and finding nothing but the usual--which he
replaced.

He came last to the breast-pocket of the coat; in it were the wallet and
one letter--the letter that had brought Harleston here.

"It caught you!" Crenshaw smiled. "There's no bait like a pretty woman!"

Harleston raised his eyebrows and shrugged his answer.

"And a rather neat trap, wasn't it--we're very much pleased with it."

"You'll not be pleased with what it produces," Harleston smiled.

"It has produced you," the other mocked; "that's quite some production,
don't you think? And now, as this letter has served its purpose, I'll
take the liberty of destroying it," tearing it into bits and putting the
bits in his pockets, "lest one of us be liable for forgery. Now for the
pocket-book; you found something in mine, you may remember, Mr.
Harleston."

Harleston gave a faint chuckle. They would find nothing in his
pocket-book but some visiting and membership cards, a couple of
addresses and a few yellow-backs and silver certificates.