A faint hope lit Jimmy's round childlike face. With Alfred away there would be no further investigation of the luncheon incident. “That might be a good idea,” he said. “It's THE idea,” said Alfred; “most of my business is in Detroit anyhow. I'm going to make that my headquarters and stay there.” Jimmy was almost smiling. “As for Zoie,” continued Alfred, “she can stay right here and go as far as she likes.” “Not with me,” thought Jimmy. “But,” shrieked Alfred, with renewed emphasis, “I'm going to find out who the FELLOW is. I'll have THAT satisfaction!” Jimmy's spirits fell. “Henri knows the head-waiter of every restaurant in this town,” said Alfred, “that is, every one where she'd be likely to go; and he says he'd recognise the man she lunched with if he saw him again.” Jimmy's features became suddenly distorted. “The minute she appears anywhere with anybody,” explained Alfred, “Henri will be notified by 'phone. He'll identify the man and then he'll wire me.” “What good will that do?” asked Jimmy weakly. “I'll take the first train home,” declared Alfred. “For what?” questioned Jimmy. “To shoot him!” exclaimed Alfred. “What!” gasped Jimmy, almost losing his footing. Alfred mistook Jimmy's concern for anxiety on his behalf. “Oh, I'll be acquitted,” he declared. “Don't you worry. I'll get my tale of woe before the jury.” “But I say,” protested Jimmy, too uneasy to longer conceal his real emotions, “why kill this one particular chap when there are so many others?” “He's the only one she's ever lunched with, ALONE,” said Alfred. “She's been giddy, but at least she's always been chaperoned, except with him. He's the one all right; there's no doubt about it. He's the beginning of the end.” “His own end, yes,” assented Jimmy half to himself. “Now, see here, old man,” he argued, “I'd give that poor devil a chance to explain.” “Explain!” shouted Alfred so sharply that Jimmy quickly retreated. “I wouldn't believe him now if he were one of the Twelve Apostles.” “That's tough,” murmured Jimmy as he saw the last avenue of honourable escape closed to him. “Tough!” roared Alfred, thinking of himself. “Hah.” “On the Apostles, I mean,” explained Jimmy nervously. Again Alfred paced up and down the room, and again Jimmy tried to think of some way to escape from his present difficulty. It was quite apparent that his only hope lay not in his own candor, but in Alfred's absence. “How long do you expect to be away?” he asked. “Only until I hear from Henri,” said Alfred. “Henri?” repeated Jimmy and again a gleam of hope shone on his dull features. He had heard that waiters were often to be bribed. “Nice fellow, Henri,” he ventured cautiously. “Gets a large salary, no doubt?” “Does he!” exclaimed Alfred, with a certain pride of proprietorship. “No tips could touch Henri, no indeed. He's not that sort of a person.” Again the hope faded from Jimmy's round face.