"Precisely about him, sir, that I came to see you," Mr. Cullen interrupted. "I am bound to admit that a few weeks ago there was no man in the world I would have laid my hands on so readily. That day at the Ritz, however, changed my views completely. I feel," he added, with a dry smile, "that I got more than level with Mr. Bundercombe when I sent for his wife." "So it was you who sent the cables that brought her over!" I remarked. "But please remember, sir," he begged apologetically, "that I had never seen the lady. I sent the cables, confidently anticipating that she would disclaim all knowledge of Mr. Bundercombe. When she arrived, and I realized that she was actually his wife, I forgave him freely for all the small annoyances he had caused me: my visit to you this morning, in fact, is entirely in his interests." "What has Mr. Bundercombe been up to now?" I asked nervously. "Nothing serious--at any rate, that I know of," Mr. Cullen assured me. "For the last fortnight--ever since Mrs. Bundercombe's arrival, in fact-- Mr. Bundercombe has somehow or other managed to keep away from all his old associates and out of any sort of mischief. Last night, however, I was out on duty--I haven't had time to go home and change my clothes yet--in a pretty bad part, shadowing one of the most dangerous swell mobsmen in Europe--a man you may have heard of, sir. He is commonly known as Dagger Rodwell." I hastily disclaimed any acquaintance with the person in question. "Tell me, though," I begged, "what this has to do with Mr. Bundercombe?" "Just this," Mr. Cullen explained: "I ran my man to ground in a place where I wouldn't be seen except professionally--and with him was Mr. Bundercombe." "They were not engaged," I asked quickly, "in any lawbreaking escapade at the time, I trust!" Mr. Cullen shook his head reassuringly. "Rodwell only goes in for the very big coups," he said. "Two or three in a lifetime, if he brought them off, would be enough for him. All the same there's something planning now and he's fairly got hold of Mr. Bundercombe. He's a smooth-tongued rascal--absolutely a gentleman to look at and speak to. What I want you to do, sir, if you're sufficiently interested, is to take Mr. Bundercombe away for a time." "Interested!" I groaned. "He'll be my father-in-law in a couple of months."