he was devoting afternoon and evening to the quest of information. A
couple of experts and a photographer had given him plenty of raw
material in the open, but he looked forward with special zest to an
undisturbed chat that night with Mr. James Creighton Forbes,
millionaire and philanthropist, whose peculiar yet forcible theories
as to the peaceful conquest of the air were for the hour engaging the
attention of the world's press.

He had never met Mr. Forbes. When on the point of writing for an
appointment he had luckily remembered that the great man was a
lifelong friend of the professor of physics at his (Theydon's)
university, and a delightfully cordial introductory note was
forthcoming in the course of a couple of posts. This brought the
invitation to dinner. "On Tuesday evening I am dining en famille,"
wrote Mr. Forbes, "so, if you are free, join us at 7:30, and we can
talk uninterruptedly afterward."

The train was not late. Bates, erect and soldierly, was standing at
the rendezvous. With him were two men whom Theydon had never before
seen. One, a bulky, stalwart, florid-faced man of forty, had something
of the military aspect; the other supplied his direct antithesis,
being small, wizened and sallow.

The big man had a round, bullet head, prominent bright blue eyes, and
the cheek bones, chin and physical development of a heavyweight
pugilist. His companion, whose dark and recessed eyes were noticeably
bright, too, could not be more than half his weight, and Theydon would
not have been surprised if told that this diminutive person was a
dancing master. Naturally he classed both as acquaintances of his
valet, encountered by chance on the platform at Waterloo.