gentleman is a friend of mine, inspector," he said. "He is a
stranger in town and was at Pavoni's only by accident."

"We might need his testimony," suggested the official.

Sam gave his card to the inspector and then sought refuge in a taxicab.
For the second time he bade his friend good night.

"And when next we dine," he called to him in parting, "choose a
restaurant where the detective service is quicker!"

Three hours later, brushed and repaired by Mrs. Wroxton, and again
resplendent, Sam sat in a secluded corner of Deptford House and bade
Polly a long farewell. It was especially long, owing to the unusual
number of interruptions; for it was evident that Polly had many friends
in London, and that not to know the Richest One in America and her
absurd mother, and the pompous, self-satisfied father, argued oneself
nobody. But finally the duchess carried Polly off to sup with her; and
as the duchess did not include Sam in her invitation--at least not in
such a way that any one could notice it-- Sam said good-night--but not
before he had arranged a meeting with Polly for eleven that same
morning. If it was clear, the meeting was to be at the duck pond in
St. James's Park; if it snowed, at the National Gallery in front of the
"Age of Innocence."

After robbing the duchess of three suppers, Sam descended to the hall
and from an attendant received his coat and hat, which latter the
attendant offered him with the inside of the hat showing. Sam saw in
it the trademark of a foreign maker.

"That's not my hat," said Sam.

The man expressed polite disbelief.

"I found it rolled up in the pocket of your greatcoat, sir," he
protested.

The words reminded Sam that on arriving at Deptford House he had
twisted the hat into a roll and stuffed it into his overcoat pocket.

"Quite right," said Sam. But it was not his hat; and with some hope of
still recovering his property he made way for other departing guests
and at one side waited.

For some clew to the person he believed was now wearing his hat, Sam
examined the one in his hand. Just showing above the inside band was
something white. Thinking it might be the card of the owner, Sam
removed it. It was not a card, but a long sheet of thin paper, covered
with typewriting, and many times folded. Sam read the opening
paragraph. Then he backed suddenly toward a great chair of gold and
velvet, and fell into it.

He was conscious the attendants in pink stockings w