to find the other there. The big man was sitting with an
unread paper on his knee and his eyes were brooding as he gazed out
through the Fifth-avenue window on the twilight tide of motors and
'buses and hansoms that passed in an endless and unresting flow.

"I had the idea, Haswell," remarked Thayre as he plumped himself down on
the leather arm of the other's chair and grinned his greeting, "that you
came to this place once a year--when they held the annual meeting."

"And you?" countered Len in a dull voice. "I didn't regard you as an
habitue either."

"Right-o!" The Englishman stretched out one gaitered foot and lighted a
cigarette. "I'll tell you a secret. When I grow savage in mood--" his
clear-eyed smile belied that state of mind--"I just run in here for a
bit of bear-baiting--rather good sport--bear-baiting. This is a den of
bears you know. Oh, yes, rather! They are all elderly bears, very
crabbed and self-absorbed and very smart and immaculate--but bears none
the less. Each has his particular chair, which to his own self-centered
mind is his private pedestal. They sit here with their manicured hands
resting idly on their robust, waistcoated tummies and stare out on the
world like little clay gods." He saw that the other man was following
him with a forced and uninterested attention, yet he went on, not like
Larry Kirk, but because he was leading up to a purpose of friendship.

"Well, old chap, I just pop in here and squat on one of these pedestals,
d'ye see? Presently its proper occupant comes in and glares at me from
the door, puffing with indignation. Inwardly he is saying, 'How dare you
trespass, you bally young cub?' and I pretend to be quite unconscious of
his baleful gaze. I know there's really nothing he can do about it. If
he were in London, I expect he'd write to the _Times_."

Thayre glanced up and started to add: "There's one now glaring at you,"
but he quickly bit off the words, for he recognized the stout
frock-coated figure of old Tom Burton. Old Tom was progressing, for now
before the lights were switched on something in his face told that the
afternoon rubbers had not progressed without their libations.

After a long pause Haswell said in a heavy voice: "I come here because
I don't meet many men who insist on talking to me."

"Oh, I beg pardon, old chap," Thayre hastily rose. "I'm sure I didn't
mean--" But before he could finish the big fellow put out a hand and
gripped his arm until a pain