Clymer, aware that the atmosphere was getting strained,
diplomatically intervened.

"Dine with me to-night, Kent," he said. "Perhaps you will then
have some news that will throw light on the present whereabouts of
the securities. I found, on making inquiries, that they have not
been offered for sale in the usual channels. Come, McIntyre, I
have a directors' meeting in twenty minutes."

McIntyre, who had been swinging his walking stick from one hand to
the other in marked impatience, turned to Kent, his manner more
conciliatory.

"Pleasant quarters you have," he remarked. "Does Rochester share
his room with you?"

"No, Colonel, his is across the ante-room where you waited a few
minutes ago," explained Kent as he accompanied his visitors to the
door. "This is my office."

"Ah, yes, I thought as much on seeing only one desk," McIntyre's
manner grew more cordial. "Does Rochester's furniture duplicate
yours, safe and all?"

"Safe - no, he has none; that is the firm's safe." Kent was
becoming restless under so many personal questions. "Good-by, Mr.
Clymer."

"Don't forget to-night at eight," the banker reminded him before
stepping into the corridor. "We'll dine at the Club de Vingt.