the name of the restaurant where the youth was dining with some friends. He rang up that restaurant, and at last, a little after half-past nine, he had the pleasure of hearing Jimmy's fresh voice at the end of the wire.
What that conversation was I must, in my next chapter, take the reader to the other end of the wire to inform him; but hardly had he put down the receiver when the door-bell rang and the non-Pole, carrying a bundle for Mr. Kirby, appeared in the hall. Evidently Mr. Lipsky was a good business man. He would not disturb the routine of his shop; things that did not belong to business hours he did outside business hours, and he knew how to get the most out of his assistant's time.
There stood in Mr. Kirby's study a large Ottoman. He lifted the lid of that Victorian piece of furniture and bid the boy put the bundle in.
Mr. Kirby was wholly devoid of superstition. None the less, he went out of the house shortly after, and during the hour or two at his disposal he took the Midland air. Of course, there was nothing in Mr. Brassington's private twist about Green Overcoats, but why should a sensible man run any risks at all?
