long and bitterly experienced.
I rejoice to know that London has not been neglected"...

"My dear friend!" cried Gianapolis enthusiastically, "no important city
has been neglected! A high priest of the cult has arisen, and from a
parent lodge in Pekin he has extended his offices to kindred lodges in
most of the capitals of Europe and Asia; he has not neglected the Near
East, and America owes him a national debt of gratitude."

"Ah! the great man!" murmured M. Gaston, with closed eyes. "As an old
habitue of the Rue St. Claude, I divine that you refer to Mr. King?"

"Beyond doubt," whispered Gianapolis, imparting a quality of awe to his
voice. "From you, my friend, I will have no secrets; but"--he
glanced about him crookedly, and lowered his voice to an impressive
whisper--"the police, as you are aware"...

"Curse their interference!" said M. Gaston.

"Curse it indeed; but the police persist in believing, or in pretending
to believe, that any establishment patronized by lovers of the magic
resin must necessarily be a resort of criminals."

"Pah!"

"Whilst this absurd state of affairs prevails, it is advisable, it is
more than advisable, it is imperative, that all of us should be secret.
The... raid--unpleasant word!--upon the establishment in Paris--was so
unexpected that there was no time to advise patrons; but the admirable
tact of the French authorities ensured the suppression of all names.
Since--always as a protective measure--no business relationship exists
between any two of Mr. King's establishments (each one being entirely
self-governed) some difficulty is being experienced, I believe, in
obtaining the names of those who patronized Madame Jean. But I am doubly
glad to have met you, M. Gaston, for not only can I put you in touch
with the London establishment, but I can impress upon you the necessity
of preserving absolute silence"...

M. Gaston extended his palms eloquently.

"To me," he declared, "the name of Mr. King is a sacred symbol."

"It is to all of us!" responded the Greek, devoutly.

M. Gaston in turn became confidential, bending toward Gianapolis
so that, as the shadow of the Greek fell upon his face, his pupils
contracted catlike.

"How often have I prayed," he whispered, "for a sight of that remarkable
man!"

A look of horror, real or simulated, appeared upon the countenance of
Gianapolis.

"To see--Mr. King!" he breathed. "My dear friend, I declare to you by
all that I hold sacred