e," said a mild, benevolent voice. The man with the snowy
beard regarded Bell exactly in the fashion of an elderly
philanthropist. "I am The Master, Senor Bell. You have interested me
greatly. I have grown to have a great admiration for you. Will you be
seated? Your companion also pleases me. I would like"--and the mild
brown eyes beamed at him--"I would like to have your friendship, Senor
Bell."

"Pull out a chair for me, Jamison," said Bell in a strained voice.
"And--I'd like to have a cigarette."

Jamison, cursing under his breath, put a chair behind Bell and stuck a
cigarette between his lips. He held a match, though his hands shook.

"You might sit down, too," said Bell steadily. "From the manner of The
Master, I imagine that the conversation will take some time."

* * * * *

He inhaled deeply of his cigarette, and faced the little man again.
And The Master looked so benevolent that he seemed absolutely
cherubic, and there was absolutely no sign of anything but the utmost
saintliness about him. His eyes were clear and mild. His complexion
was fresh and translucent. The wrinkles that showed upon his face were
those of an amiable and a serene soul filled with benevolence and
charity. He looked like one of those irritatingly optimistic old
gentlemen who habitually carry small coins and stray bits of candy in
their pockets for such small children as they may converse with under
the smiling eyes of nurses.

"Ah, Senor Bell," he said gently. "You do cause me to admire you. May
I see your hands again?"

Bell held them out. He seemed to have conquered their writhing to some
extent. But he could not hold them quite still. Sweat stood out on his
forehead. He thrust them abruptly out of sight again.

"Sad," said The Master gently. "Very sad." He sighed faintly and laid
down the rose he had been toying with. His fingers caressed the soft
petals delicately. "Fortunately," he said benevolently, "it is not yet
too late for me to relieve the strain under which you labor, Senor.
May I send for a certain medicine which will dispose of those symptoms
in a very short time?"

"We'll talk first," said Bell harshly. "I want to hear what you have
to say."

* * * * *

The Master nodded, his fingers touching the rose petals as if in a
sensitive pleasure in their texture.

"Always courageous," he said benignly. "I admire it while I combat it.
But the Senor Jamison.