nd Tuesday last. Two others he had ignored for some
reason; the remaining two safes had not been allotted. There is one
point that raises an interesting speculation."

"What is that, Max?"

"The 'Actor' has one associate, a man known as 'Billy the Fondant,'
but beyond that--with the exception of his wife, of course--he does
not usually trust anyone. It is plain, however, that at least seven
men must latterly have been kept under close observation. It has
occurred to me--"

"Yes, Max?"

"I have wondered whether Harry has enlisted the innocent services of
one or other of our private inquiry offices."

"Scarcely," smiled the professional. "It would hardly pass muster."

"Oh, I don't know. Mrs. Harry, in the character of a jealous wife or a
suspicious sweetheart, might reasonably--"

Mr. Carlyle's smile suddenly faded.

"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "I remember--"

"Yes, Louis?" prompted Carrados, with laughter in his voice.

"I remember that I must telephone to a client before Beedel comes,"
concluded Mr. Carlyle, rising in some haste.

At the door he almost ran into the subdued director, who was wringing
his hands in helpless protest at a new stroke of calamity.

"Mr. Carrados," wailed the poor old gentleman in a tremulous bleat,
"Mr. Carrados, there is another now--Sir Benjamin Gump. He insists on
seeing me. You will not--you will not desert us?"

"I should have to stay a week," replied Carrados briskly, "and I'm
just off now. There will be a procession. Mr. Carlyle will support
you, I am sure."

He nodded "Good-morning" straight into the eyes of each and found his
way out with the astonishing certainty of movement that made so many
forget his infirmity. Possibly he was not desirous of encountering
Draycott's embarrassed gratitude again, for in less than a minute they
heard the swirl of his departing car.

"Never mind, my dear sir," Mr. Carlyle assured his client, with
impenetrable complacency. "Never mind. _I_ will remain instead.
Perhaps I had better make myself known to Sir Benjamin at once."

The director turned on him the pleading, trustful look of a cornered
dormouse.

"He is in the basement," he whispered. "I shall be in the
boardroom--if necessary."

Mr. Carlyle had no difficulty in discovering the centre of interest in
the basement. Sir Benjamin was expansive and reserved, bewildered and
decisive, long-winded and short-tempered, each in turn and more or
less all at once. He had already dema