is
business.

One day a respectable man brought to Mr. Tibbetts a plan of a
warehouse. He came like a gale of wind, almost before Bones had
digested the name on the card which announced his existence and
identity.

His visitor was red-faced and big, and had need to use a handkerchief
to mop his brow and neck at intervals of every few minutes. His
geniality was overpowering.

Before the startled Bones could ask his business, he had put his hat
upon one chair, hooked his umbrella on another, and was unrolling, with
that professional tremblement of hand peculiar to all who unroll large
stiff sheets of paper, a large coloured plan, a greater portion of
which was taken up by the River Thames, as Bones saw at a glance.

He knew that blue stood for water, and, twisting his neck, he read
"Thames." He therefore gathered that this was the plan of a property
adjacent to the London river.

"You're a busy man; and I'm a busy man," said the stentorian man
breathlessly. "I've just bought this property, and if it doesn't
interest you I'll eat my hat! My motto is small profits and quick
returns. Keep your money at work, and you won't have to. Do you see
what I mean?"

"Dear old hurricane," said Bones feebly, "this is awfully interesting,
and all that sort of thing, but would you be so kind as to explain why
and where--why you came in in this perfectly informal manner? Against
all the rules of my office, dear old thing, if you don't mind me
snubbing you a bit. You are sure you aren't hurt?" he asked.

"Not a bit, not a bit!" bellowed the intruder. "Honest John, I
am--John Staines. You have heard of me?"

"I have," said Bones, and the visitor was so surprised that he showed
it.

"You have?" he said, not without a hint of incredulity.

"Yes," said Bones calmly. "Yes, I have just heard you say it, Honest
John Staines. Any relation to John o' Gaunt?"

This made the visitor look up sharply.

"Ha, ha!" he said, his laugh lacking sincerity. "You're a bit of a
joker, Mr. Tibbetts. Now, what do you say to this? This is Stivvins'
Wharf and Warehouse. Came into the market on Saturday, and I bought it
on Saturday. The only river frontage which is vacant between Greenwich
and Gravesend. Stivvins, precious metal refiner, went broke in the
War, as you may have heard. Now, I am a man of few words and
admittedly a speculator. I bought this property for fifteen thousand
pounds. Show me a profit of five thousand pound