this was more than man was meant to bear.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Hallo, old thing!" said Archie. "Come and join the party!"

"Don't call me old thing!"

"Right-o, old companion, just as you say. I say, I was just going to
suggest to Mr. Connolly that we should all go up to my suite and talk
this business over quietly."

"He says he's the manager of your new hotel," said Mr. Connolly. "Is
that right?"

"I suppose so," said Mr. Brewster, gloomily.

"Then I'm doing you a kindness," said Mr. Connolly, "in not letting it
be built."

Archie dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief. The moments were
flying, and it began to seem impossible to shift these two men. Mr.
Connolly was as firmly settled in his chair as some primeval rock. As
for Mr. Brewster, he, too, had seated himself, and was gazing at Archie
with a weary repulsion. Mr. Brewster's glance always made Archie feel as
though there were soup on his shirt-front.

And suddenly from the orchestra at the other end of the room there came
a familiar sound, the prelude of "Mother's Knee."

"So you've started a cabaret, Dan?" said Mr. Connolly, in a satisfied
voice. "I always told you you were behind the times here!"

Mr. Brewster jumped.

"Cabaret!"

He stared unbelievingly at the white-robed figure which had just mounted
the orchestra dais, and then concentrated his gaze on Archie.

Archie would not have looked at his father-in-law at this juncture if he
had had a free and untrammelled choice; but Mr. Brewster's eye drew his
with something of the fascination which a snake's has for a rabbit. Mr.
Brewster's eye was fiery and intimidating. A basilisk might have gone to
him with advantage for a course of lessons. His gaze went right through
Archie till the latter seemed to feel his back-hair curling crisply in
the flames.

"Is this one of your fool-tricks?"

Even in this tense moment Archie found time almost unconsciously to
admire his father-in-law's penetration and intuition. He seemed to have
a sort of sixth sense. No doubt this was how great fortunes were made.

"Well, as a matter of fact--to be absolutely accurate--it was like
this--"

"Say, cut it out!" said Mr. Connolly. "Can the chatter! I want to
listen."

Archie was only too ready to oblige him. Conversation at the moment was
the last thing he himself desired. He managed with a strong effort to
disengage himself from Mr. Brewster's eye, and turned to the orchestra
dais, where