finished with it, when I leave this room."

"You are content, then," Mr. Hebblethwaite observed, "to leave this
matter entirely in my hands?"

"Entirely, sir," the official assented. "I am perfectly content, from
this moment, to forget all that I know. Whatever your judgment prompts
you to do, will, I feel sure, be satisfactory."

Mr. Hebblethwaite rose to his feet and held out his hand.

"Well, Mr. Harrison," he concluded, "you have performed a disagreeable
duty in a tactful manner. Personally, I am not in the least grateful to
you, for, as I dare say you know, Mr. Spencer Wyatt is a great friend of
mine. As a member of the Government, however, I think I can promise you
that your services shall not be forgotten. Good evening!"

The official departed. Mr. Hebblethwaite thrust his hands into his
pockets, glanced at the clock impatiently, and made use of an expression
which seldom passed his lips. He was in evening dress, and due to dine
with his wife on the other side of the Park. Furthermore, he was very
hungry. The whole affair was most annoying. He rang the bell.

"Ask Mr. Bedells to come here at once," he told the servant, "and tell
your mistress I am exceedingly sorry, but I shall be detained here for
some time. She had better go on without me and send the car back. I will
come as soon as I can. Explain that it is a matter of official business.
When you have seen Mrs. Hebblethwaite, you can bring me a glass of sherry
and a biscuit."

The man withdrew, and Mr. Hebblethwaite opened a telephone directory. In
a few moments Mr. Bedells, who was his private secretary, appeared.

"Richard," his chief directed, "ring up Mr. Spencer Wyatt. Tell him that
whatever his engagements may be, I wish to see him here for five minutes.
If he is out, you must find out where he is. You can begin by ringing up
at his house."

Bedells devoted himself to the telephone. Mr. Hebblethwaite munched a
biscuit and sipped his sherry. Presently the latter laid down the
telephone and reported success.

"Mr. Spencer Wyatt was on his way to a city dinner, sir," he announced.
"They caught him in the hall and he will call here."

Mr. Hebblethwaite nodded. "See that he is sent up directly he comes."

In less than five minutes Mr. Spencer Wyatt was ushered in. He was
wearing the uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet--a tall, broad-shouldered
man, fair complexioned, and with the bearing of a sailor.

"Hullo, Hebblethwaite, what's wrong?" he ask