man's disappointment in his tone, and in the manner of his
turning away. But she dared not yield to his request. Suddenly she
remembered, and all hesitation passed.

"I--I just want to thank you for your kind thought sending me those
flowers and fruit," she exclaimed. "I wanted to thank you before, but I
was too excited with my news. I--"

The man cut her short.

"That's all right, my dear," he said. Then he nodded and deliberately
turned to his work. "I'm glad. Now--just run right along home
and--rest."

CHAPTER XI

DRAWN SWORDS

The palatial halls and public rooms of the hotel were crowded.
Everywhere was the hum of voices, which penetrated even to the intended
quiet of the writing rooms. Every now and then the monotony of it all
was broken by the high-pitched, youthful voices of the messenger boys
seeking out their victims.

Bull Sternford was at work. Within an hour of his arrival he was plunged
in the affairs connected with the great business organisation he
projected. The earlier date of his visit to Quebec had necessitated
considerable changes in plans already prepared. He had entailed for
himself endless added work for the pleasure of the companionship of a
beautiful girl on the journey down the coast, and begrudged no detail of
it. Just now he was writing to a number of important people, bankers and
financial men, re-arranging appointments to suit his change of plans.

There was something tremendously purposeful in the poise of the man's
body as he sat at one of the many writing tables scattered about the
smoking lounge. There were few passers-by who did not glance a second
time in his direction with that curiosity which is unfailing in human
nature at sight of an unusual specimen of their kind.

Twice a name was called by a uniformed boy in that unintelligible
fashion which seems to be the habit of his species. The boy hovered
round. Then he came up behind the chair on which Bull was seated and
hurled his final challenge.

"Sternford, sir?" he asked curtly.

His victim turned.

"Yes."

"Wanted on the 'phone, sir."

The boy was gone on the run. He had hunted his quarry down. There were
still fresh victories to be achieved.

* * * * *

Bull was at the 'phone, and his eyes were smiling at an insurance
advertisement set up for the edification and interest of those whose use
of the instrument prevented their escape.

"Yes. Oh, yes. Got in this morning.