You must be Mr. Bunner," said Trent.

CHAPTER V

MR. BUNNER ON THE CASE

"Calvin C. Bunner, at your service," amended the newcomer, with a touch
of punctilio, as he removed an unlighted cigar from his mouth. He was
used to finding Englishmen slow and ceremonious with strangers, and
Trent's quick remark plainly disconcerted him a little. "You are Mr.
Trent, I expect," he went on. "Mrs. Manderson was telling me a while
ago. Captain, good-morning." Mr. Murch acknowledged the greeting with a
nod. "I was coming up to my room, and I heard a strange voice in here,
so I thought I would take a look in." Mr. Bunner laughed easily. "You
thought I might have been eavesdropping, perhaps," he said. "No, sir; I
heard a word or two about a pistol--this one, I guess--and that's all."

Mr. Bunner was a thin, rather short young man with a shaven, pale, bony,
almost girlish face and large, dark, intelligent eyes. His waving dark
hair was parted in the middle. His lips, usually occupied with a cigar,
in its absence were always half open with a curious expression as of
permanent eagerness. By smoking or chewing a cigar this expression was
banished, and Mr. Bunner then looked the consummately cool and sagacious
Yankee that he was.

Born in Connecticut, he had gone into a broker's office on leaving
college, and had attracted the notice of Manderson, whose business with
his firm he had often handled. The Colossus had watched him for some
time, and at length offered him the post of private secretary. Mr.
Bunner was a pattern business man, trustworthy, long-headed, methodical
and accurate. Manderson could have found many men with those virtues:
but he engaged Mr. Bunner because he was also swift and secret, and had
besides a singular natural instinct in regard to the movements of the
stock market.

Trent and the American measured one another coolly with their eyes. Both
appeared satisfied with what they saw. "I was having it explained to
me," said Trent pleasantly, "that my discovery of a pistol that might
have shot Manderson does not amount to very much. I am told it is a
favorite weapon among your people, and has become quite popular over
here."

Mr. Bunner stretched out a bony hand and took the pistol from its case.
"Yes, sir," he said, handling it with an air of familiarity, "the
captain is right. This is what we call out home a Little Arthur, and I
dare say there are duplicates of it in a hundred thousand hip-pockets
this mi