Mr. Brewster's brow clouded.

"I know that," he said shortly. "Mawson's looking for the other one
everywhere. If you happen across it, I give you carte blanche to buy
it for me."

"It must be somewhere."

"Yes. If you find it, don't worry about the expense. I'll settle up,
no matter what it is."

"I'll bear it in mind," said Professor Binstead. "It may cost you a
lot of money. I suppose you know that."

"I told you I don't care what it costs."

"It's nice to be a millionaire," sighed Professor Binstead.

"Luncheon is served, sir," said Parker.

He had stationed himself in a statutesque pose behind Mr. Brewster's
chair, when there was a knock at the door. He went to the door, and
returned with a telegram.

"Telegram for you, sir."

Mr. Brewster nodded carelessly. The contents of the chafing-dish had
justified the advance advertising of their odour, and he was too
busy to be interrupted.