from it, not even the call of the division bell, nor of hunger, nor
the prayers of the party Whip. He gave up his country house because
when he journeyed to it in the train he would become so absorbed in
his detective stories that he was invariably carried past his
station." The member of Parliament twisted his pearl stud nervously,
and bit at the edge of his mustache. "If it only were the first pages
of 'The Rand Robbery' that he were reading," he murmured bitterly,
"instead of the last! With such another book as that, I swear I could
hold him here until morning. There would be no need of chloroform to
keep him from the House."

The eyes of all were fastened upon Sir Andrew, and each saw with
fascination that with his forefinger he was now separating the last
two pages of the book. The member of Parliament struck the table
softly with his open palm.

"I would give a hundred pounds," he whispered, "if I could place in
his hands at this moment a new story of Sherlock Holmes--a thousand
pounds," he added wildly--"five thousand pounds!"

The American observed the speaker sharply, as though the words bore to
him some special application, and then at an idea which apparently had
but just come to him, smiled in great embarrassment.

Sir Andrew ceased reading, but, as though still under the influence of
the book, sat looking blankly into the open fire. For. a brief space
no one moved until the baronet withdrew his eyes and, with a sudden
start of recollection, felt anxiously for his watch. He scanned its
face eagerly, and scrambled to his feet.