nice little nest egg to begin married life upon. Besides, he's had a
fairly good rest as it is, when I come to think of it. Nothing
much to do since the time when that Mauravanian business came to an
end. I fancy he rather looked to have something come out of that in
the beginning from the frequent inquiries he made regarding what
that johnnie Count Irma and the new Parliament were doing; but
it never did. And now, after all that rest--and this a case of so
much importance----Gad! I believe I'll risk it. He can't do any
more then decline. Yes, by James! I will."

His indecision once conquered, he took the plunge instantly; caught
up the desk telephone, called for a number, and two minutes later
was talking to Cleek, thus:

"I say, old chap, don't snap my head off for suggesting such a thing
at such a time, but I've a most extraordinary case on hand and I
hope to heaven that you will help me out with it. What's that? Oh,
come, now, that's ripping of you, old chap, and I'm as pleased as
Punch. What? Oh, get along with you! No more than you'd do for me
under the same circumstances, I'll be sworn. Yes, to-day--as early as
possible. Right you are. Then could you manage to meet me in the
bar parlour of a little inn called the French Horn, out Shere way, in
Surrey, about four o'clock? Could, eh? Good man! Oh, by the way,
come prepared to meet a lady of title, old chap--she's the client.
Thanks very much. Good-bye."

Then he hung up the receiver, rang for Lennard, and set about
preparing for the journey forthwith.

And this, if you please, was how it came to pass that when Mr.
Maverick Narkom turned up at the French Horn that afternoon he
found a saddle horse tethered to a post outside, and Cleek, looking
very much like one of the regular habitues of Rotten Row who had
taken it into his mind to canter out into the country for a change,
standing in the bar parlour window and looking out with appreciative
eyes upon the broad stretch of green downs that billowed away to
meet the distant hills.

"My dear chap, how on earth do you manage it?" said the
superintendent, eying him with open approval, not to say
admiration. "I don't mean the mere putting on the clothes and
_looking_ the part--I've seen dozens in my time who could do that
right enough, but the beggars always 'fell down' when it came to
the acting and the talking, while you--I don't know what the
dickens it is nor how you manage to get it, but there's a certain
s