twelve. Involuntarily he counted the strokes as they chimed slowly,
and as the vibrations of the last stroke faded away the little needle
swung an entire circuit of the dial, returning to its original
position. This was repeated three times.

Underhill, although still interested in what was going on, seemed a
bit relieved when nothing more startling happened.

"Oh, I say, you know, you gave me quite a start," he jested. "I
thought that you were going to set London on fire, and you simply seem
to be taking your blood-pressure."

Edestone still paid not the slightest attention to him, but after
glancing about the room walked over to the mantelpiece where he picked
up an old twelve-inch cannon-ball, which with considerable difficulty
he brought back and placed on the table by the side of his
instrument. His eyes once more roved about the room as if he were
seeking something, and stepping deliberately to a passe-partout
photograph of King George V., he ripped off the binding with his
pocket-knife and tore from it the glass.

"Oh, I say, now, Mr. Edestone, those cow-boy methods don't go here in
London, and if you cannot behave a bit more like a gentleman, I'll
have you shown to the street."

"We have more important matters on our hands just now, Mr. Underhill,
than whether or not I am a gentleman," snapped the American, his face
set and serious as he with nervous fingers laid the glass on the
table.