neither of his
listeners took up his challenge, "and we'll call it Sage's."

"I shall in all probability receive quite a number of orders for
shop-fronts," murmured Malcolm Sage, with a slight fluttering at the
corners of his mouth, which those who knew him understood how to
interpret.

"Shop-fronts!" repeated Sir John Dene, looking from one to the other,
"I don't get you."

"There is already a well-known firm of shop-furnishers called
'Sage's,'" explained Sir James, who throughout the battle had been
an amused listener.

"Well, we'll call it the Malcolm Sage Detective Bureau," replied Sir
John Dene, "and we'll have it a concern that insurance companies can
look to." He proceeded to light his cigar, with him always a sign
that something of importance had been settled.

Sir John Dene liked getting his own way. That morning he had
resolutely brushed aside every objection, ethical or material, that
had been advanced. To Malcolm Sage he considered that he owed a
lot,* and with all the aggressiveness of his nature, he overwhelmed
and engulfed objection and protest alike. To this was added the fact
that the idea was his wife's, and in his own phraseology, "that
goes."

[* See John Dene of Toronto for the story of how Malcolm Sage
frustrated the enemies of Sir John Dene.]

Passive and attentive, his long shapely hands seldom still, Malcolm
Sage had listened. From time to time he ventured some objection,
only to have it brushed aside by Sir John Dene's overwhelming
determination.

For some minutes Malcolm Sage had been stroking the back of his head
with the palm of his right hand, a habit of his when thoughtful.
Suddenly he raised his eyes and looked across at his would-be
benefactor.

"Why should you want to do this for me, Sir John?" he asked.

"If you're going to put up a barrage of whys," was the irascible
retort, "you'll never cut any ice."

"I fully appreciate the subtlety of the metaphor," said Malcolm Sage,
the corners of his mouth twitching; "but still why?"

"Well, for one thing I owe you something," barked Sir John Dene,
"and remembering's my long suit. For another, Lady Dene----"

"That is what I wanted to know," said Malcolm Sage, as he drew his
briar from his pocket and proceeded to fill it. "Will you thank Lady
Dene and tell her that I am proud to be under an obligation to her--
and to you, Sir John," he added.

"Say, that's fine," cried Sir John Dene, jumping to his feet and
extending his ha