een the office
and his house?"

The assistant amiably replied she would ascertain. In a few moments she
spoke again.

"No wonder you couldn't get a reply," she said. "Jolly & Co. are not
connected with the Exchange at all. We switch them on by arrangement for
business purposes, but their wire is a private one. It has only been
recently erected."

Phillips drew a sharp breath. He was expecting sensational developments,
but this information fairly staggered him.

"I am much obliged to you," he said. "But I am very anxious to get on to
Mr. Jolly. You say the wire is a private one. I suppose it goes from the
office to Mr. Jolly's own house. Where is that?"

"His place is called The Nook, Mirst Park."

Once more Phillips was taken aback. The whole plot was opening up before
his eyes. Many important matters remained to be cleared up, but he felt
he was getting on with a vengeance.

"I didn't know where he lived," he said, "but many thanks for this
information and all the trouble you have taken. Would you mind putting
me in connexion with the Nook?"

The assistant was still obliging. For the best part of five minutes
Phillips stood there with the receiver at his ear, and the longer he had
to wait the more satisfied he appeared to be. Then, presently, the thin
voice at the other end of the wire began to speak to him again.

"I am very sorry," she said. "But I have rung half a dozen times and
can't make anybody hear. Probably they have left the receiver off the
instrument. I can try again presently."

"A thousand thanks," Phillips said. "But I won't trouble you. I'll call
round at the office in the morning. What a stroke of luck! Now for Mirst
Park."

CHAPTER XVI

THE NOOK

On second thoughts, Phillips deemed it more prudent to remain in town
overnight. There would be no difficulty in reaching Mirst Park to-morrow
in time to open his campaign. Besides, when he came to think it over
there were a good many things yet to be done. He ate his modest dinner
in his modest lodgings and then sat down over a cigarette to think out
the result of his day's work. The more he cogitated the more satisfied
he was with his rate of progress.

He had got past the age when a man burns for revenge and that sort of
thing. He infinitely preferred to make Copley smart and put money in his
own pocket at the same time. As for his diamond-mining adventure, he
expected to hear no more of that. He had been robbed of his precious