his fist down upon the table--but not heavily enough to disturb
the other diners; and, laughing, changed the subject.

For some moments he gossiped cheerfully of his new power-boat,
Bannerman attending to the inconsequent details with an air of
abstraction. Once or twice he appeared about to interrupt, but
changed his mind: but because his features were so wholly
infantile and open and candid, the time came when Maitland could
no longer ignore his evident perturbation.

"Now what's the trouble?" he demanded with a trace of asperity.
"Can't you forget that Graeme business and--"

"Oh, it's not that." Bannerman dismissed the troubles of Mr.
Graeme with an airy wave of a pudgy hand. "That's not my funeral,
nor yours.... Only I've been worried, of late, by your utterly
careless habits."

Maitland looked his consternation. "In heaven's name, what now?"
And grinned as he joined hands before him in simulated petition.
"Please don't read me a lecture just now, dear boy. If you've got
something dreadful on your chest wait till another day, when I'm
more in the humor to be found fault with."

"No lecture." Bannerman laughed nervously. "I've merely been
wondering what you have done with the Maitland heirlooms."

"What? Oh, those things? They're safe enough--_in_ the safe
out at Greenfields."