ugh
mussels?"

"Damn the sauce!" Duncombe answered. "Forgive me, Spencer, but this
affair is, after all, a serious one to me. You say that your two scouts,
as you call them, discovered nothing. Well, they had only one evening at
it. Will they try again in other directions? Can I engage them to work
for me? Money is absolutely no object."

Spencer shook his head.

"Duncombe," he said, "you're going to think me a poor sort of friend,
but the truth is best. You must not count upon me any more. I cannot
lift even my little finger to help you. I can only give you advice if
you want it."

"And that?"

"Go back to England to-morrow. Chuck it altogether. You are up against
too big a combination. You can do no one any good. You are a great deal
more likely to come to harm yourself."

Duncombe was quite quiet for several moments. When he spoke again his
manner had a new stiffness.

"You have surprised me a good deal, I must confess, Spencer. We will
abandon the subject."

Spencer shrugged his shoulders.

"I know how you're feeling, old chap," he said. "I can't help it. You
understand my position here. I write a daily letter for the best paying
and most generous newspaper in the world, and it is absolutely necessary
that I keep hand in glove with the people in high places here. My
position absolutely demands it, and my duty to my chief necessitates my
putting all personal feeling on one side in a case like this when a
conflict arises."

"But where," Duncombe asked, "does the conflict arise?"

"Here!" Spencer answered. "I received a note this morning from a great
personage in this country to whom I am under more obligation than any
other breathing man, requesting me to refrain from making any further
inquiries or assisting any one else to make them in this matter. I can
assure you that I was thunderstruck, but the note is in my pocket at the
present moment."

"Does it mention them by name?"

"The exact words are," Spencer answered, "'respecting the reported
disappearance of the young Englishman, Mr. Guy Poynton, and his sister.'
This will just show you how much you have to hope for from the police,
for the person whose signature is at the foot of that note could command
the implicit obedience of the whole system."

Duncombe's cheeks were a little flushed. He was British to the backbone,
and his obstinacy was being stirred.

"The more reason," he said quietly, "so far as I can see, that I should
continue my ind