easy reach of headquarters. He repaired to it immediately on
leaving Easleby, intent on spending a couple of hours in ease and
comfort before retiring to bed. But he had scarcely put on his slippers,
lighted his pipe, mixed a whisky-and-soda, and picked up a book, when a
knock at his outer door sent him to open it and to find Gandam standing
in the lobby. Gandam glanced at him with a smile which was half
apologetic and half triumphant.

"I've been to the office after you, Mr. Starmidge," he said. "They gave
me your address, so I came on here."

Starmidge saw that the man was full of news, and he motioned him to
enter and led him to his sitting-room.

"You've heard something, then?" he asked.

"Seen something, Mr. Starmidge," answered Gandam, taking the chair which
Starmidge pointed to. "I'm afraid I didn't hear anything--I wish I had!"

Starmidge gave his visitor a drink and dropped into his own easy-chair
again.

"Chestermarke, of course!" he suggested. "Well--what!"

"I happened to catch sight of him this evening," replied Gandam. "Sheer
accident it was--but there's no mistaking him. Half-past six I was
coming along Piccadilly, and I saw him leaving the Camellia Club.
He----"

"What sort of a club's that, now?" asked Starmidge.

"Social club--men about town, sporting men, actors, journalists, so on,"
replied Gandam. "I know a bit about it--had a case relating to it not so
long ago. Well--he went along Piccadilly, and, of course, I followed
him--I wasn't going to lose sight of him after that set-back of last
night, Mr. Starmidge! He crossed the Circus, and went into the Cafe
Monico. I followed him in there. Do you know that downstairs saloon
there?"

"I know it," assented Starmidge.

"He went straight down to it," continued Gandam. "And as I knew that he
didn't know me, I presently followed. When I'd got down he'd taken a
seat at a table in a quiet corner, and the waiter was bringing him a
glass of sherry. There was a bit of talk between 'em--Chestermarke
seemed to be telling the waiter that he was expecting somebody, and he'd
wait a bit before giving an order. So I sat down--in another corner--and
as I judged it was going to be a longish job, I ordered a bit of dinner.
Of course I kept an eye on him--quietly. He read a newspaper, smoked a
cigarette, and sipped his sherry. And at last--perhaps ten minutes after
he'd got in--a woman came down the stairs, looked round, and went
straight over to where he was