at is he?" I demanded eagerly.

"Well, I don't know exactly. He's in some Government office, I
believe, but he's not the sort of chap who ever talks about his own
affairs. Where on earth did you come across him?"

As quickly as possible I told Tommy the story of my visit to
Parelli's, and showed him the card which Latimer had sent me by the
waiter. He took it out of my hand, looking at me with a sort of
half-sceptical amazement.

"You're not joking?" he said. "This is Gospel truth you're telling
me?"

I nodded. "Humour's a bit out of my line nowadays, Tommy," I answered.
"The Dartmoor climate doesn't seem to suit it."

"But--but--" he stared for a moment at the card without speaking.
"Well, this beats everything," he exclaimed. "What in God's name can
Bruce Latimer have to do with your crowd?"

"That," I remarked, "is exactly what I want to find out."

"Find out!" repeated Tommy. "We'll find out right enough. Do you think
he guessed who it was that sent the note?"

"Most likely he did," I said. "I was the nearest person, but in any
case he only saw my back. You can't recognize a man from his back."

Tommy took two or three steps up and down the studio. "_You_ mustn't
go and see him," he said at last--"that's quite certain. You can't
afford to mix yourself up in a business of this sort."

"No," I said reluctantly, "but all the same I should very much like to
know what's at the bottom of it."

"Suppose I take it on, then?" suggested Tommy.

"What could you say?" I asked.

"I should tell him that it was a friend of mine--an artist who was
going abroad the next day--who had seen it happen, and that he'd given
me the card and asked me to explain. It's just possible Latimer would
take me into his confidence. He would either have to do that or else
pretend that the whole thing was a joke."

"I'm quite sure there was no joke about it," I said. "Whether the chap
with the scar belongs to McMurtrie's crowd or not, I'm as certain as I
am that I'm standing here that he drugged that wine. He may not have
meant to murder Latimer, but it looks uncommon fishy."

"It looks even fishier than you think," answered Tommy. "I'd forgotten
for the moment, when you asked about him, but I remember now that some
fellow at the Athenians once told me that Latimer was supposed to be a
secret-service man of some kind."

"A secret-service man!" I repeated incredulously. "I didn't know we
went in for such luxuries in this country exc