nute. I consider it too light in the hand myself," Mr. Bunner
went on, mechanically feeling under the tail of his jacket, and
producing an ugly-looking weapon. "Feel of that, now, Mr. Trent--it's
loaded, by the way. Now this Little Arthur--Marlowe bought it just
before we came over this year, to please the old man. Manderson said it
was ridiculous for a man to be without a pistol in the twentieth
century. So he went out and bought what they offered him, I guess--never
consulted me. Not but what it's a good gun," Mr. Bunner conceded,
squinting along the sights. "Marlowe was poor with it at first, but I've
coached him some in the last month or so, and he's practised until he is
pretty good. But he never could get the habit of carrying it around.
Why, it's as natural to me as wearing my pants. I have carried one for
some years now, because there was always likely to be somebody laying
for Manderson. And now," Mr. Bunner concluded sadly, "they got him when
I wasn't around. Well, gentlemen, you must excuse me. I am going in to
Bishopsbridge. There is a lot to do these days, and I have to send off a
bunch of cables big enough to choke a cow."

"I must be off, too," said Trent. "I have an appointment at the Three
Tuns inn."

"Let me give you a lift in the automobile," said Mr. Bunner cordially.
"I go right by that joint. Say, Cap, are you coming my way, too? No?
Then come along, Mr. Trent, and help me get out the car. The chauffeur
is out of action, and we have to do 'most everything ourselves except
clean the dirt off her."

Still tirelessly talking in his measured drawl, Mr. Bunner led Trent
downstairs and through the house to the garage at the back. It stood at
a little distance from the house, and made a cool retreat from the blaze
of the mid-day sun.

Mr. Bunner seemed to be in no hurry to get out the car. He offered Trent
a cigar, which was accepted, and for the first time lit his own. Then he
seated himself on the foot-board of the car, his thin hands clasped
between his knees, and looked keenly at the other.

"See here, Mr. Trent," he said after a few moments. "There are some
things I can tell you that may be useful to you. I know your record. You
are a smart man, and I like dealing with smart men. I don't know if I
have that detective sized up right, but he strikes me as a mutt. I would
answer any questions he had the gumption to ask me--I have done so, in
fact--but I don't feel encouraged to give him any notions