rejoined Virginia quickly, "we're quite sure of that."

The host turned to the Japanese butler, who was busy at the table,
placing the empty cocktail glasses on the tray.

"Did you explain thoroughly, Oku?" he asked.

The man looked up.

"Yes, sir. I tell you have big meeting and say 'very much excuse,
please.'"

"That was right," rejoined his master, with a laugh. "Now get me the
menu."

Oku picked up the tray and made for the door.

"Yes--excuse, please. Excuse."

When his butler had disappeared, Stafford turned to his guests with a
smile:

"Queer little chap, isn't he? He is very devoted, and I find him very
useful. You see, being a bachelor, I don't keep house, but if I have a
little party like this, I generally leave the selection of the dinner
to Oku and have it served in there--" He pointed to the dining-room,
the folding doors of which the butler had closed. With a good-natured
laugh, he added: "He has shut the doors so we can't see the spread. I
hope the little beggar has something good."

Jim, who, until now, had remained in the background, trying to summon
up enough courage to take an aggressive part in the conversation,
spoke up boldly:

"Nice little place you have here, Mr. Stafford."

There was an amused expression, which did not escape Virginia's
notice, hovering around the corners of the millionaire's mouth, as he
replied:

"Glad you like it. Have you seen the other rooms?"

"No," replied the clerk carelessly, as he flecked the ashes from his
cigar on to the fine Turkish rug. "I'm judging by this one--"

At that moment Oku re-entered the room, bearing in his hand a menu,
which he handed to his master. Stafford glanced over it and nodded
approvingly, then, taking out a pencil, he made one correction. This
done, he handed it back.

"I think that will do nicely. Have dinner served when ready."

"Yes--sir--excuse, please."

The butler was about to leave the room, when his master called him
back.

"Oku--just a moment." Turning apologetically to the others, he said:

"Will you excuse me?" In an undertone to the butler, he said: "I
shan't dress to-night--"

Oku salaamed.

"Anything else, sir?"

"No--you can go."

"Then excuse--please. Excuse--"

The butler disappeared and the host rejoined his guests. Addressing
the shipping clerk amiably, he said:

"I'm glad you like this room, Mr. Gillie."

There was no sarcasm in his voice, nor did he intend any. The railroad
promoter w