worked without cessation.
Both telephones, incoming and outgoing, were continually in use.
Telegraph girls and messenger boys came and went.

Gladys Norman had ceased to worry about the shininess of her nose,
and William Johnson was in process of readjusting his ideas as to
lack of the dramatic element at the Malcolm Sage Bureau as compared
with detective fiction and the films.

About three o'clock a tall, clean-shaven man was shown into Malcolm
Sage's room. He had a hard mouth, keen, alert eyes, and an air
suggestive of the fact that he knew the worst there was to be known
about men and acted accordingly.

With a nod Malcolm Sage motioned him to a seat. Six months before he
had saved Dick Lindler from the dock by discovering the real
criminal in whose stead Lindler was about to be charged with a
series of frauds. Since then Malcolm Sage had always been sure of
such "inside" information in the bookmaking world as he required.

"How's the betting now?" enquired Malcolm Sage.

"Nine to two on Jefferson offered; and no takers," was the reply.
"There's something up, Mr. Sage; I'll take my dying oath on it," he
said, leaning across the table and dropping his voice.

"Any big amounts?" enquired Malcolm Sage.

"No, that's what troubles me. The money's being spread about so. The
funny thing is that a lot of it is being put on by letter. I've had
a dozen myself to-day."

Malcolm Sage nodded slowly as he filled his pipe, which with great
deliberation he proceeded to light until the whole surface of the
tobacco glowed. Then, as if suddenly realising that Lindler was not
smoking, he pulled open a drawer, drew out a cigar-box, and pushed
it across, watching him closely from beneath his eyebrows as he did
so.

Lindler opened the box, then looked interrogatingly at Malcolm Sage.

"Didn't know you smoked the same poison-sticks as the 'Downy One,'"
he said, picking up a long cigar with a red and gold band, and
examining it.

"Who's he?"

"Old Nathan Goldschmidt, the stinking Jew."

"I'm sorry," said Malcolm Sage; "that should not have been there.
Try one of the others."

Lindler looked across at him curiously.

"Personally, myself," he said, "I believe he's at the bottom of all
this heavy backing of Jefferson."

Malcolm Sage continued to smoke as if the matter did not interest
him, whilst Lindler bit off the end of the cigar he had selected and
proceeded to light it.

"Several of his crowd have been around this m