essary to speak
clearly.'

Sir James looked at the telephone, not affectionately, and took up the
receiver. 'Well?' he said in his strong voice, and listened. 'Yes,' he
said. The next moment Mr. Silver, eagerly watching him, saw a look of
amazement and horror. 'Good God!' murmured Sir James. Clutching the
instrument, he slowly rose to his feet, still bending ear intently. At
intervals he repeated 'Yes.' Presently, as he listened, he glanced
at the clock, and spoke quickly to Mr. Silver over the top of the
transmitter. 'Go and hunt up Figgis and young Williams. Hurry.' Mr.
Silver darted from the room.

The great journalist was a tall, strong, clever Irishman of fifty, swart
and black-moustached, a man of untiring business energy, well known in
the world, which he understood very thoroughly, and played upon with the
half-cynical competence of his race. Yet was he without a touch of the
charlatan: he made no mysteries, and no pretences of knowledge, and
he saw instantly through these in others. In his handsome, well-bred,
well-dressed appearance there was something a little sinister when anger
or intense occupation put its imprint about his eyes and brow; but when
his generous nature was under no restraint he was the most cordial
of men. He was managing director of the company which owned that most
powerful morning paper, the Record, and also that most indispensable
evening paper, the Sun, which had its offices on the other side of the
street. He was, moreover, editor-in-chief of the Record, to which he had
in the course of years attached the most variously capable personnel in
the country. It was a maxim of his that where you could not get gifts,
you must do the best you could with solid merit; and he employed a great
deal of both. He was respected by his staff as few are respected in a
profession not favourable to the growth of the sentiment of reverence.

'You're sure that's all?' asked Sir James, after a few minutes of
earnest listening and questioning. 'And how long has this been known?...
Yes, of course, the police are; but the servants? Surely it's all over
the place down there by now.... Well, we'll have a try.... Look here,
Bunner, I'm infinitely obliged to you about this. I owe you a good turn.
You know I mean what I say. Come and see me the first day you get to
town.... All right, that's understood. Now I must act on your news.
Goodbye.'

Sir James hung up the receiver, and seized a railway timetable from th