ciously
as I made my adieux, and passed on. Despite my disappointment, I felt
that I was now becoming profoundly interested in my quest. The
evidence, too, was all in favor of Delora. It seemed, indeed, as
though this undertaking in which he was involved might, after all, be
connected with other things than crime!

CHAPTER XXVI

NEARLY

It was past one o'clock in the morning when I returned to the hotel,
yet the porter who admitted me pointed toward the figure of a man who
stood waiting in the dimly lit hall.

"There is a person here who has been waiting to see you for some
hours, sir," he said. "His name is Fritz."

"To see me?" I repeated.

The man came a step forward and saluted. I recognized him at once. It
was the _commissionnaire_ at the Cafe Universel.

"It is quite right," I told the porter. "You had better come up to my
rooms," I added, turning to Fritz.

I led the way to the lift and on to my sitting-room. There I turned up
the electric lights and threw myself into an easy-chair.

"Well, Fritz," said I, "I hope that you have brought me some news."

"I have lost my job, sir," the man answered, a little sullenly.

"How much was it worth to you?" I asked.

"It was worth nearly two pounds a week with tips," he declared,
speaking with a strong foreign accent.

"Then I take you into my service at two pounds ten a week from
to-night," I said. "The engagement will not be a long one, but you may
find it lucrative."

The man fingered his hat and looked at me stolidly.

"I am not a valet, sir," he replied.

"If you were I should not employ you," I answered. "You can make
yourself very useful to me in another direction, if you care to."

"I am very willing, sir," the man declared,--"very willing indeed. I
have a wife and children, and I cannot afford to be out of
employment."

"Come, then," I said. "The long and short of it is this. I want to
discover the whereabouts of the man who was with the Chinaman at your
restaurant last evening."

The man looked at me with something like surprise in his face.

"You do not know that?" he said.

"I do not," I admitted. "Your business will be to find out."

"And what do I get," the man asked, "if I do discover the staying
place of that gentleman?"

"A ten-pound note," I answered, "down on the nail."

A slow smile suffused Fritz's face.

"I will tell you now," he said. "You have the ten pounds, so?"

"I have it ready," I answered, rising to my