We came to tell him," said Evan. "We've either got to tell him or go."

Deaves wiped his face. "Mr. Hassell, I hope I can rely on your
discretion. You will receive what I am about to tell you in absolute
confidence?"

"My dear sir," returned the painter a little testily, "you come to me
in this state of agitation about I don't know what. Whatever it is, I
hope I will comport myself like a man of honour!"

George Deaves handed over the letter in a hand that trembled.
Hassell's face was a study as he read it.

"This is blackmail!" he cried. "And in my name!"

"That's why we came to you," said Deaves--a little unnecessarily it
might be thought.

"You surely don't suspect----"

"Certainly not," said Evan quickly--there was no knowing what break
Deaves might have made. "But you can help us."

"Of course! This letter names eleven o'clock as the hour." Hassell
glanced at his watch. "It's nearly twelve now. Why didn't you come to
me earlier--or phone?"

"Well, I didn't know--it didn't occur to me," began Deaves, and stopped
with an appealing glance at Evan.

Evan said bluntly: "Mr. Deaves was not acquainted with your name and
your work until I told him."

The great painter looked a little astonished at such ignorance. "Has
the money been sent to the club?" he asked.

Deaves nodded shamefacedly.

Mr. Hassell immediately got busy. "I'll taxi down there at once. I
rarely use the Barbizon club nowadays. Haven't been there in a month."

"Shall we go with you?" asked Delves.

"No. They may have spies posted who would see you even if you remained
in the cab. If you'll be good enough to wait here, I'll be back inside
half an hour."

Even in his bustle he did not neglect business. As soon as he had gone
the servant appeared again, and began to show his pictures. Deaves
goggled at them indifferently, but Evan was keenly interested. He
studied them with the mixture of scorn and envy that is characteristic
of the attitude of poor young artists towards rich old ones.

Within a few minutes of his half hour Hassell was back again. "Not
much to report," he said deprecatingly. "The envelope addressed to me
was delivered just before eleven o'clock, and put in the H box of the
letter rack. It was gone when I looked, of course, but who took it
remains to be discovered. About thirty members had gone in and out.
Practically everybody stops at the letter rack. I have a list of those
who passed in and out