e leg of his
trousers with the air of a man unaccustomed to his hands being in a fit
condition for the purpose of greeting.

"Pleased to meet you," said Spotty briefly.

"How's the _Destroyer_?" asked Sir Bridgman with some eagerness.

"Ruddy miracle," said Spotty, as he once more got the fireplace dead in
the centre.

Sir Lyster seemed temporarily to have lost the power of speech. He
gazed at Quinton as if hypnotised by the inequality of his complexion.
When he expectorated Sir Lyster's eyes wandered from Spotty to the
fireplace, as if to assure himself that a bull had really been
registered.

At last by an obvious effort he turned to John Dene.

"I congratulate you upon your escape," he said, "but I thought you were
too ill to----"

"My escape!" replied John Dene.

"Yes, from that place--where was it, North?" He turned to Sir Bridgman.

"Streatham."

"Ah! yes, Streatham."

"I've been up north sending Huns to merry hell, where I'd like to send
the whole Admiralty outfit," was the uncompromising retort. "I've come
into contact with some fools----" John Dene broke off.

"Shutting up my offices," he muttered.

"But----" began Sir Lyster, then paused.

"I've been over to Chiswick and she's not there; flat's shut,"
continued John Dene.

"Chiswick!" repeated Sir Lyster. "Whose flat?"

"Mrs. West's, and you've shut my offices," he added, with the air of
one unwilling to relinquish an obvious grievance.

"But I understood that you had just been released from a house in
Streatham," persisted Sir Lyster.

"Well, there's a good many mutts in this place who've been released too
soon. You're talking about Jim."

"Jim!" repeated Sir Lyster, "Jim who?"

"My brother. They were all after me good and hard, so Jim came along,
and I just slipped up north with your man."

"Then you were the fellow with red hair all over him," laughed Sir
Bridgman.

"Sure," was the laconic reply. "They were out for me," he continued a
moment later, "and I'd never have got away. Jim didn't mind."

"But where is he now?" asked Sir Lyster.

"He's probably the John Dene that they think was released from that
place in Streatham," suggested Sir Bridgman.

"Jim's all right," said John Dene, "but where's Miss West and my keys?"

At that moment the telephone bell rang. Sir Lyster lifted the receiver
from the rest and listened.

"Yes, that's all right, thank you, Blair," he said; then turning to
John Dene he added, "Mr. B