g
the way for future visits.

"I'll come in again," he said indifferently.

"But you are leaving to-morrow, sir."

"I've changed my mind."

"You are not going?"

"Not for a few days."

"Then you have discovered something in Edelweiss to attract you?"
grinned the old armourer. "I thought you might."

"I've had a glimpse of the swells, my good friend."

"It's all the good you'll get of it," said Spantz gruffly.

"I daresay you're right. Clean that sword up a bit for me, and I'll drop
in to-morrow and get it. Here's sixty gavvos to bind the bargain. The
rest on delivery. Good day, Mr. Spantz."

"Good day, Mr. King."

"How do you happen to know my name?"

Spantz put his hand over his heart and delivered himself of a most
impressive bow. "When so distinguished a visitor comes to our little
city," he said, "we lose no time in discovering his name. It is a part
of our trade, sir, believe me."

"I'm not so sure that I do believe you," said Truxton King to himself as
he sauntered up the street toward the Hotel. "The girl knew me, too, now
that I come to think of it. Heigho! By Jove, I _do_ hope I can work up a
little something to interest--Hello!"

Mr. Hobbs, from Cook's, was at his elbow, his eyes glistening with
eagerness.

"I say, old Dangloss is waiting for you at the Regengetz, sir. Wot's up?
Wot you been up to, sir?"

"Up to? Up to, Hobbs?"

"My word, sir, you must have been or he wouldn't be there to see you."

"Who is Dangloss?"

"Minister of Police--haven't I told you? He's a keen one, too, take my
word for it. He's got Sherlock beat a mile."

"So have I, Hobbs. I'm not slow at Sherlocking, let me tell you that.
How do you know he's waiting to see me?"

"I heard him ask for you. And I was there just now when one of his men
came in and told him you were on your way up from the gunshop down
there."

"So they're watching me, eh? 'Gad, this is fine!"

He lost no time in getting to the hotel. A well-remembered,
fierce-looking little man in a white linen suit was waiting for him on
the great piazza.

Baron Jasto Dangloss was a polite man but not to the point of
procrastination. He advanced to meet the puzzled American, smiling
amiably and twirling his imposing mustachios with neatly gloved fingers.

"I have called, Mr. King, to have a little chat with you about your
father," he said abruptly. He enjoyed the look of surprise on the young
man's face.

"My father?" murmured Truxton, catching