. Every man
to his trade."

He snatched up his hat, and with a curt "Good-morning," flung out of the
room in dudgeon.

Thorndyke laughed softly.

"Poor Professor!" he murmured. "Our playful friend Barton has much to
answer for."

VI

THE MANDARIN'S PEARL

Mr. Brodribb stretched out his toes on the kerb before the blazing fire
with the air of a man who is by no means insensible to physical comfort.

"You are really an extraordinarily polite fellow, Thorndyke," said he.

He was an elderly man, rosy-gilled, portly, and convivial, to whom a
mass of bushy, white hair, an expansive double chin, and a certain prim
sumptuousness of dress imparted an air of old-world distinction. Indeed,
as he dipped an amethystine nose into his wine-glass, and gazed
thoughtfully at the glowing end of his cigar, he looked the very type of
the well-to-do lawyer of an older generation.

"You are really an extraordinarily polite fellow, Thorndyke," said Mr.
Brodribb.

"I know," replied Thorndyke. "But why this reference to an admitted
fact?"

"The truth has just dawned on me," said the solicitor. "Here am I,
dropping in on you, uninvited and unannounced, sitting in your own
armchair before your fire, smoking your cigars, drinking your
Burgundy--and deuced good Burgundy, too, let me add--and you have not
dropped a single hint of curiosity as to what has brought me here."

"I take the gifts of the gods, you see, and ask no questions," said
Thorndyke.

"Devilish handsome of you, Thorndyke--unsociable beggar like you, too,"
rejoined Mr. Brodribb, a fan of wrinkles spreading out genially from the
corners of his eyes; "but the fact is I have come, in a sense, on
business--always glad of a pretext to look you up, as you know--but I
want to take your opinion on a rather queer case. It is about young
Calverley. You remember Horace Calverley? Well, this is his son. Horace
and I were schoolmates, you know, and after his death the boy, Fred,
hung on to me rather. We're near neighbours down at Weybridge, and very
good friends. I like Fred. He's a good fellow, though cranky, like all
his people."

"What has happened to Fred Calverley?" Thorndyke asked, as the solicitor
paused.

"Why, the fact is," said Mr. Brodribb, "just lately he seems to be going
a bit queer--not mad, mind you--at least, I think not--but undoubtedly
queer. Now, there is a good deal of property, and a good many highly
interested relatives, and, as a natural conseq