d back a couple of
months, as it were, and reenacted the scene in his cabin, had been very
real. Five years in an Egyptian penitentiary missed by five minutes and
a quick-witted explanation! While he shook his head and smiled into Mr.
Spokesly's face he was thinking that he would take twice as much this
time, and he knew where to hide it. Moreover, and he smiled more like a
cat than ever, the millions of lines round his eyes deepening, he
reflected that if Mr. Spokesly went in on this there was practically no
risk at all. Nothing easier than to say----Eh, what? No! He was going
along to the Amphitryon, to see a little friend of his. See them later.
Aw--ri!

It was a notable feature of Mr. Bates's temperamental failing that it
never affected his legs. In earlier years, as a saloon waiter, he had
often astounded his shipmates by getting as drunk as a lord before
dinner, and yet going down the long dining saloon of a great liner, a
plate of soup in each hand, and depositing them in front of passengers
in evening dress, without ever an accident. Perhaps his demeanour was a
shade more deliberate, his attention a trifle more abstracted, on these
occasions; that was all. And now, as he rose and went towards the door
of Floka's, after a dignified farewell to Mr. Dainopoulos, although an
occasional wandering eye fastened upon him for a moment, Mr. Bates never
betrayed himself. He paused courteously at the door while a major with
his brigadier in tow passed in, monocles reflecting the light in a blind
white glare so that they resembled Cyclops, and then he walked out
gently himself, and was immediately lost in the noise and bustle of the
Place.

Mr. Dainopoulos looked at Mr. Spokesly and thrust a thumb into the
armhole of his coat.

"Your friend," he began in a low mutter, "him and me we do big
business--you understand?--but all the same he drink too much highball.
No good, eh?"

"Well," said Mr. Spokesly, "he's his own master, and he can please
himself about that. To tell the truth, though, if there's anything
in--what you were speaking of, I'd just as soon he wasn't in it. You see
what I mean?" Mr. Dainopoulos nodded and drew at his _narghileh_. "He's
a friend of mine, and very good friend, too, but we got to draw a line
somewhere." Again Mr. Dainopoulos nodded as he leaned across the table.

"And another thing!" he remarked in his muffled tones, and he held the
mouthpiece of the _narghileh_ just in front of his lips as t