"You refuse me the appointment?"
"Unless you can give me an inkling of your business—or perhaps bring a letter of introduction."
"I can do neither, Mr. Blensop," said Lanyard earnestly. "I have information of the gravest moment to communicate to the head of the British Secret Service in this country."
The secretary looked startled. "What makes you think Colonel Stanistreet is connected with the British Secret Service?"
"I don't think so; I know it."
After a moment of hesitation Mr. Blensop yielded graciously. "If you can come back at nine to-morrow morning, Mr. Ember, I'll do my best to persuade Colonel Stanistreet"
"I repeat, my business is of the most pressing nature. Can't you arrange for me to see your employer to-night?"
"It is utterly impossible."
Lanyard accepted defeat with a bow.
"To-morrow at nine, then," he said, turning toward the door by which he had entered.
"At nine," said Mr. Blensop, generous in triumph. "But do you mind going out this way?"
He moved toward the curtained door opposite the chimney-piece. Lanyard paused, shrugged, and followed. Mr. Blensop opened the door, disclosing a vista of Ninety-fifth Street.
"Thank you, Mr. Ember. Good-night," he intoned.
The door closed with the click of a spring latch.
Lanyard stood alone in the street, looking swiftly
