's in London."

"He most positively isn't in London," said Sir Paul. "He's not coming
back until November."

"Then that shows how little the evidence of the senses can be relied
upon," remarked Mr. Prohack gently. "According to the hall-porter he
called here for me a few minutes ago, and he may call again."

The banker grunted. "The deuce he did! Does that mean he's in some fresh
trouble, I wonder?"

At the same moment a page-girl, the smart severity of whose uniform was
mitigated by a pig-tail and a bow of ribbon, approached Mr. Prohack's
chair, and, bending her young head to his ear, delivered to him with the
manner of a bearer of formidable secrets:

"Mr. Bishop to see you, sir."

"There he is!" exclaimed Mr. Prohack. "Now he's bound to want lunch. Why
on earth can't we bring guests in here? Waitress, have the lunch I've
ordered served in the guests' dining-room, please.... No doubt Bishop
and I'll see you chaps upstairs later."

He went off to greet and welcome Bishop, full of joy at the prospect of
tasting anew the rich personality of his old friend. It is true that he
had a qualm about the expense of standing Bishop a lunch--a fellow who
relished his food and drink and could distinguish between the best and
the second best; but on the other hand he could talk very freely to
Bishop concerning the crisis in which he found himself; and he knew that
Bishop would not allow Bishop's affairs, however troublesome they might
be, unduly to bother _him_.

Bishop was not on the bench in the hall where visitors were appointed to
wait. Only one man was on the bench, a spectacled, red-faced person. Mr.
Prohack glanced about. Then the page-girl pointed to the spectacled
person, who jumped up and approached Mr. Prohack somewhat effusively.

"How d'ye do, Prohack?"

"Well, _Bishop_!" Mr. Prohack responded. "It's _you_!"

It was another Bishop, a Bishop whom he had forgotten, a Bishop who had
resigned from the club earlier and disappeared. Mr. Prohack did not like
him. Mr. Prohack said to himself: "This fellow is after something, and I
always knew he was an adventurer."

"Funny feeling it gives you to be asked to wait in the hall of a club
that you used to belong to!" said Bishop.

The apparently simple words, heavy with sinister significance, sank
like a depth-charge into Mr. Prohack's consciousness.

"Among other things," said Mr. Prohack to himself, "this fellow is very
obviously after a free lunch."

Now Mr. P