Roman gladiator entering the arena,
tottered across the room. Lucille turned to entertain the perplexed
music-publisher.

The nearer Archie got to Mr. Aloysius Connolly the less did he like the
looks of him. Even at a distance the Labour leader had had a formidable
aspect. Seen close to, he looked even more uninviting. His face had
the appearance of having been carved out of granite, and the eye which
collided with Archie's as the latter, with an attempt at an ingratiating
smile, pulled up a chair and sat down at the table was hard and frosty.
Mr. Connolly gave the impression that he would be a good man to have on
your side during a rough-and-tumble fight down on the water-front or in
some lumber-camp, but he did not look chummy.

"Hallo-allo-allo!" said Archie.

"Who the devil," inquired Mr. Connolly, "are you?"

"My name's Archibald Moffam."

"That's not my fault."

"I'm jolly old Brewster's son-in-law."

"Glad to meet you."

"Glad to meet YOU," said Archie, handsomely.

"Well, good-bye!" said Mr. Connolly.

"Eh?"

"Run along and sell your papers. Your father-in-law and I have business
to discuss."

"Yes, I know."

"Private," added Mr. Connolly.

"Oh, but I'm in on this binge, you know. I'm going to be the manager of
the new hotel."

"You!"

"Absolutely!"

"Well, well!" said Mr. Connolly, noncommittally.

Archie, pleased with the smoothness with which matters had opened, bent
forward winsomely.

"I say, you know! It won't do, you know! Absolutely no! Not a bit like
it! No, no, far from it! Well, how about it? How do we go? What? Yes?
No?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Call it off, old thing!"

"Call what off?"

"This festive old strike."

"Not on your--hallo, Dan! Back again?"

Mr. Brewster, looming over the table like a thundercloud, regarded
Archie with more than his customary hostility. Life was no pleasant
thing for the proprietor of the Cosmopolis just now. Once a man starts
building hotels, the thing becomes like dram-drinking. Any hitch, any
sudden cutting-off of the daily dose, has the worst effects; and the
strike which was holding up the construction of his latest effort had
plunged Mr. Brewster into a restless gloom. In addition to having this
strike on his hands, he had had to abandon his annual fishing-trip just
when he had begun to enjoy it; and, as if all this were not enough, here
was his son-in-law sitting at his table. Mr. Brewster had a feeling that