have got the same kind of job."

Mr. Holland smiled quietly.

"I hope his employer is not as eccentric as I and that he pays his
servant on my scale."

With this shot he unlocked and passed through the door of the cottage.

Feltham drove his car to the garage which had been built at the back of
the house, and, once free from observation, lit his pipe, and, seating
himself on a box, drew from his pocket a little card which he perused
with unusual care.

He read:

One: To act as chauffeur and valet. Two: To receive ten pounds a
week and expenses. Three: To make no friends or acquaintances.
Four: Never under any circumstances to discuss my employer, his
habits, or his business. Five: Never under any circumstances to go
farther eastward into London than is represented by a line drawn
from the Marble Arch to Victoria Station. Six: Never to recognize
my employer if I see him in the street in company with any other
person.

The chauffeur folded the card and scratched his chin reflectively.

"Eccentricity," he said.

It was a nice five-syllable word, and its employment was a comfort to
this perturbed Australian. He cleaned his face and hands, and went into
the tiny kitchen to prepare his master's dinner.

Mr. Holland's house was a remarkable one. It was filled with every form
of labor-saving device which the ingenuity of man could devise. The
furniture, if luxurious, was not in any great quantity. Vacuum tubes
were to be found in every room, and by the attachment of hose and nozzle
and the pressure of a switch each room could be dusted in a few minutes.
From the kitchen, at the back of the cottage, to the dining room ran two
endless belts electrically controlled, which presently carried to the
table the very simple meal which his cook-chauffeur had prepared.

The remnants of dinner were cleared away, the chauffeur dismissed to his
quarters, a little one-roomed building separated from the cottage, and
the switch was turned over which heated the automatic coffee percolator
which stood on the sideboard.

Mr. Holland sat reading, his feet resting on a chair.

He only interrupted his study long enough to draw off the coffee into a
little white cup and to switch off the current.

He sat until the little silver clock on the mantelshelf struck twelve,
and then he placed a card in the book to mark the place, closed it, and
rose leisurely.

He slid back a panel in the wall, d