They had no difficulty in finding Mr. Fogg. He was in front of the fire in the office of the Nicholas, toasting his back and warming his slowly fanning palms, and talking to a group of men. He affected non-recognition of Mayo when the young man asked, brusquely, if he might see him in private. “Certainly, sir. And your friend?” “Yes.” The stranger, following up the stairs with Mayo, nudged his companion. “He's a wonder! 'And your friend?'” he quoted with a chuckle. “No coarse work about that!” Mayo had firmly decided in his mind that his present business was the only matter he would discuss with Fletcher Fogg. Even though the just wrath of an innocent man, ruined and persecuted, prompted him to assail this smug trickster with tongue, and even with fists, he bound himself by mental promise to wait until he had proofs other than vague words and his own convictions. “And now--” invited Fogg, when he had closed the door of his room, waiting tmtil his callers had entered. “Yes, _now!_” blurted Captain Mayo. “Not _then_, Mr. Fogg! We'll have that settled later, when I make you pay for what you did to me. This man here, you know him, of course! He tried to dynamite the _Conomo_. I caught him in the act. He is your man. He has made his boasts that he would be protected.” Mr. Fogg turned a cold stare upon the man's appreciative grin. “I never saw this person before, sir.” “I know better!” Mayo leaped to a conclusion, and bluffed. “I can prove by men here in this city that you have been talking with him.” “He may have been one of the persons who came to me asking for work on the wreck, providing my concern decided to salvage. But we concluded not to undertake the work, and I paid no attention to him. As far as any memory of mine is concerned, I never saw him before, I say.” “You don't represent any salvage company,” insisted Mayo. “You have come here to interfere with anybody who tries to salvage that steamer.” “What is your business with me, sir? Get somewhere!” “I have come to show you this man. If you'll keep your hands off my affairs, shut your mouth, and stop telling men here that the plan to salvage is hopeless, I'll turn this man over to you. You know what I ought to do to you right here and now, Fogg,” he cried, savagely. “But I'm not going to bother--not now. I'm here to trade with you on this one matter.” “I'm not interested.” “Then I shall take this man to the police station and lodge my complaint. When criminal prosecution starts you'll see what happens to you.” “Go as far as you like,” consented Mr. Fogg, listlessly. “You can't make me responsible for the acts of a person I don't know from Adam.” “Is that your last word?” “Of course it is!” snapped the promoter. “You must be a lunatic to think anything else.” “Very well. May I use your telephone to call the police?” “Certainly.” Mr. Fogg lighted a cigar and picked up a newspaper.