The man tore the card into small pieces.

"So long, boys," he said, addressing his late companions. "See you
to-night."

They accepted his departure in silence, and one and all favoured
Mr. Sabin with a stare of blatant curiosity.

"I should be glad to speak with you," Mr. Sabin said, "in a place
where we are likely to be neither disturbed nor overheard."

"You come right across to my office," was the prompt reply. "I
guess we can fix it up there."

Mr. Sabin motioned to his coachman, and they crossed Broadway. His
companion led him into a tall building, talking noisily all the
time about the pals whom he had just left. An elevator transported
them to the twelfth floor in little more than as many seconds, and
Mr. Skinner ushered his visitor into a somewhat bare-looking office,
smelling strongly of stale tobacco smoke. Mr. Skinner at once lit
a cigar, and seating himself before his desk, folded his arms and
leaned over towards Mr. Sabin.

"Smoke one?" he asked, pointing to the open box.

Mr. Sabin declined.

"Get right ahead then."

"I am an Englishman," Mr. Sabin said slowly, "and consequently am