sh wait," he said to himself.

As a matter of fact, he was disappointed. At precisely seven o'clock,
Mr. Richard Vanderpole strolled into the room and, after a casual glance
around, approached his chair and touched him on the shoulder. In his
evening clothes the newcomer was no longer obtrusively American. He was
dressed in severely English fashion, from the cut of his white waistcoat
to the admirable poise of his white tie. He smiled as he patted Coulson
upon the shoulder.

"This is Mr. Coulson, I'm sure," he declared,--"Mr. James B. Coulson
from New York?"

"You're dead right," Mr. Coulson admitted, laying down his newspaper and
favoring his visitor with a quick upward glance.

"This is great!" the young man continued. "Just off the boat, eh? Well,
I am glad to see you,--very glad indeed to make your acquaintance, I
should say."

Mr. Coulson replied in similar terms. A waiter who was passing through
the room hesitated, for it was a greeting which generally ended in a
summons for him.

"What shall it be?" the newcomer asked.

"I've just taken dinner," Mr. Coulson said. "Coffee and cognac'll do me
all right."

"And a Martini cocktail for me," the young man ordered. "I am dining
down in the restaurant with some friends later on. Come over to this
corner, Mr. Coulson. Why, you're looking first-rate. Great boat, the
Lusitania, isn't she? What sort of a trip did you have?"

So they talked till the drinks had been brought and paid for, till
another little party had quitted the room and they sat in their
lonely corner, secure from observation or from any possibility of
eavesdropping. Then Mr. Richard Vanderpole leaned forward in his chair
and dropped his voice.

"Coulson," he said, "the chief is anxious. We don't understand this
affair. Do you know anything?"

"Not a d----d thing!" Coulson answered.

"Were you shadowed on the boat?" the young man asked.

"Not to my knowledge," Coulson answered. "Fynes was in his stateroom six
hours before we started. I can't make head nor tail of it."

"He had the papers, of course?"

"Sewn in the lining of his coat," Coulson muttered. "You read about that
in tonight's papers. The lining was torn and the space empty. He had
them all right when he left the steamer."

The young man looked around; the room was still empty.

"I'm fresh in this," he said. "I got some information this afternoon,
and the chief sent me over to see you on account of it. We had better
not discuss