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evening. It appeared the next morning under a conspicuous head-line in
the daily newspapers, and Mr. Sidney Jarvice read the item in the Pullman
car as he traveled from Brighton to his office in London. He removed his
big cigar from his fat red lips, and became absorbed in thought. The
train rushed past Hassocks and Three Bridges and East Croydon. Mr.
Jarvice never once looked at his newspaper again. The big cigar of which
the costliness was proclaimed by the gold band about its middle had long
since gone out, and for him the train came quite unexpectedly to a stop
at the ticket platform on Battersea Bridge.

Mr. Jarvice was a florid person in his looks and in his dress. It was in
accordance with his floridness that he always retained the gold band
about his cigar while he smoked it. He was a man of middle age, with
thick, black hair, a red, broad face, little bright, black eyes, a black
mustache and rather prominent teeth. He was short and stout, and drew
attention to his figure by wearing light-colored trousers adorned with a
striking check. From Victoria Station he drove at once to his office in
Jermyn Street. A young and wizened-looking clerk was already at work in


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