tly, when he had come down from the
clouds; for it was Reggie Rex, busy on the outline of his novel.

Derrick returned the salutation and sank on to the bench beside him; and
Reggie, after a comprehensive glance, and one of distinct approval,
said:

"You look hot, sir. Have a drink. I can recommend the local ale. It is
good though not particularly intoxicating."

"Thanks," said Derrick; and he made short work of the tankard of
home-brewed which the landlord brought him. "Are you staying here?" he
inquired. "I ask, because I want a room for a night or two."

"That's all right," said Reggie. "They'll be able to give you a room, I
think. Your portmanteau has arrived already. Is your name Grey?"

"No," replied Derrick, staring at him with pardonable surprise. "Sydney
Green."

"Oh, well, it wasn't a bad guess," said Reggie, complacently. "I saw 'S.
G.' on your portmanteau, and 'Green' seemed so obvious that I hit on
Grey."

"Are you a detective?" asked Derrick, with a laugh.

"Wish I were!" responded Reggie, with a groan. "No; I'm an author,
novelist; and I'm engaged on a big detective story. That's why I get all
the practice I can. You come from South Africa?"

"Wrong; guess again," said Derrick, with a smile.

"Then what do you mean by that tanned face?" demanded Reggie,
indignantly.

"You can get tanned in other places than South Africa," said Derrick.
"I'd tell you where I come from, but I've a feeling that I should spoil
your enjoyment in finding out for yourself. Besides, if I did tell you
that much, you'd want to know why I have come here."

"Quite right," assented Reggie, approvingly. "That's just what I should
want to know. But don't you trouble; I shall find out quick enough. And
don't be offended," he added. "You see, I'm obsessed--that's the new
word, you know--by this detective business. I want to find out
everything about everybody. But there's no harm in me; it's a kind of
monomania; and if you don't want me to be inquisitive, just say so."

There was something so inoffensive in this young man's eccentricity,
that Derrick found it impossible to be affronted; he leant back, filled
his pipe, and smoked in silence for a minute or two; then, driven by the
ardour of his desire, by that longing to talk round about, if not
directly of, his heart's idol, which obsesses--as Reggie would
say--every lover, he said, half-ashamed of his impulse,

"Have you been staying long in these parts; do you happen to