iled at first but
growing shabbier with every landing, brought them past innumerable doors
until, at last, just under the ground-glass roofing, the names of Smith
and Hanbury were to be seen painted in large white letters across a
panel, with a laconic invitation to push beneath it. Following out the
suggestion, the Admiral and his companion found themselves in a dingy
apartment, ill lit from a couple of glazed windows. An ink-stained
table, littered with pens, papers, and almanacs, an American cloth sofa,
three chairs of varying patterns, and a much-worn carpet, constituted
all the furniture, save only a very large and obtrusive porcelain
spittoon, and a gaudily framed and very somber picture which hung above
the fireplace. Sitting in front of this picture, and staring gloomily
at it, as being the only thing which he could stare at, was a small
sallow-faced boy with a large head, who in the intervals of his art
studies munched sedately at an apple.

"Is Mr. Smith or Mr. Hanbury in?" asked the Admiral.

"There ain't no such people," said the small boy.

"But you have the names on the door."

"Ah, that is the name of the firm, you see. It's only a name. It's Mr.
Reuben Metaxa that you wants."

"Well then, is he in?"

"No, he's not."

"When will he be back?"

"Can't tell, I'm sure. He's gone to lunch. Sometimes he takes one hour,
and sometimes two. It'll be two to-day, I 'spect, for he said he was
hungry afore he went."

"Then I suppose that we had better call again," said the Admiral.

"Not a bit," cried Charles. "I know how to manage these little imps. See
here, you young varmint, here's a shilling for you. Run off and fetch
your master. If you don't bring him here in five minutes I'll clump you
on the side of the head when you get back. Shoo! Scat!" He charged at
the youth, who bolted from the room and clattered madly down-stairs.

"He'll fetch him," said Charles. "Let us make ourselves at home.
This sofa does not feel over and above safe. It was not meant for
fifteen-stone men. But this doesn't look quite the sort of place where
one would expect to pick up money."

"Just what I was thinking," said the Admiral, looking ruefully about
him.

"Ah, well! I have heard that the best furnished offices generally belong
to the poorest firms. Let us hope it's the opposite here. They can't
spend much on the management anyhow. That pumpkin-headed boy was the
staff, I suppose. Ha, by Jove, that's his voice, and he'