CHAPTER XX.
MY CLIENT—AND HER FRIEND.
The next day I was engaged. On that following I went up to Fenchurch Street, to the offices of Messrs. Staple, Wainwright and Friscoe. I had ascertained that Gardiner was out of town, and actuated by motives of curiosity thought I would learn where Mr. Lander might be found. As I was going up the steps an old gentleman came down. I knew him pretty well. His name was Curtis. He had been, and, indeed, for all I knew, was still an agent of Lloyd’s. For two or three years we had not met. After we had exchanged greetings, I put to him my question.
“Do you know a man named Lander, Max Lander?”
“Late of The Flying Scud?”
An odd expression came on his face, as it were the suggestion of a grin.
“That’s the man.”
“Yes, I know something of Max Lander, Captain Max, as he likes to be called. Though there’s not much of the captain about him just at present.”
The grin came more to the front.
“He called on me about a matter of which I could make neither head nor tail. I should like to have another talk with him. Can you tell me where he’s to be found?”
Mr. Curtis shook his head.
