is for a lady, as he has been here a number of times with
ladies. If you are sure that the lady will not come, you might wait for
him there. I will remain here until he comes, and follow him up, in case
you need me."

Keith feared that the waiter might mention his presence.

"Oh, no; he knows us," said Dave, with a faint smile at the bare
suggestion.

Mr. Dimm called the head-waiter and spoke to him in an undertone. The
waiter himself showed Keith up to the room, where he found a table
daintily set with two covers.

The champagne-cooler, filled with ice, was already on the floor beside
the table. Keith looked at it grimly. The curtains of the window were
down, and Keith walked over to see on what street the window looked. It
was a deep embrasure. The shade was drawn down, and he raised it, to
find that the window faced on a dead-wall. At the moment the door opened
and he heard Wickersham's voice.

"No one has come yet?"

"No, sir, not as I knows of," stammered the waiter. "I have just come
on."

"Where is Jacques, the man who usually waits on me?" demanded
Wickersham, half angrily.

"Jacques est souffrant. Il est tres malade."

Wickersham grunted. "Well, take this," he said, "and remember that if
you serve me properly there will be a good deal more to follow."

The waiter thanked him profusely.

"Now, get down and be on the lookout, and when a lady comes and asks for
21, show her up immediately. If she asks who is here, tell her two
gentlemen and a lady. You understand?"

The waiter bowed his assent and retired. Wickersham came in and closed
the door behind him.

He had just thrown his coat on a chair, laid his hat on the mantelpiece,
and was twirling his moustache at the mirror above it, when he caught
sight in the mirror of Keith. Keith had stepped out behind him from the
recess, and was standing by the table, quietly looking at him. He gave
an exclamation and turned quickly.

"Hah! What is this? You here! What are you doing here? There is some
mistake." He glanced at the door.

"No, there is no mistake," said Keith, advancing; "I am waiting for
you."

"For me! Waiting for me?" he demanded, mystified.

"Yes. Did you not tell the waiter just now a gentleman was here? I
confess you do not seem very pleased to see me."

"You have read my looks correctly," said Wickersham, who was beginning
to recover himself, and with it his scornful manner. "You are the last
person on earth I wish to see--ever.