"Quite--but luckily I didn't have to bolt it. You're off for Vienna, I
see. Sit down, Rox. Won't you have another egg and a cup of coffee? Do!"

"Thanks and no to everything you suggest. Wot you doing for the next
half-hour or so? I'm in a deuce of a dilemma and you've got to help me
out of it." The Englishman looked at his watch and fumbled it nervously
as he replaced it in his upper coat pocket. "That's a good fellow,
Brock. You _will_ be the ever present help in time of trouble, won't
you?"

"My letter of credit is at your disposal, old man," said Brock promptly.
He meant it. It readily may be seen from this that their friendship is
no small item to be considered in the development of this tale.

"My dear fellow, that's the very thing I'm eager to thrust upon you--my
letter of credit," exclaimed the other.

"What's that?" demanded Brock.

"I say, Brock, can't we go up to your rooms? Dead secret, you know.
Really, old chap, I mean it. No one must get a breath of it. That's why
I'm whispering. I'm not a lunatic, so don't stare like that. I'd do as
much for you if the conditions were reversed."

"I dare say you would, Rox, but what the devil is it you want me to do?"

"Do I appear to be agitated?"

"Well, I should say so."