"It is a most interesting thing," said he, "to take note of what different men regard as important. Now, there was your grandfather, a careful, far-seeing man, and who gave a deal of attention to all the small matters of the firm. Then here is your uncle, who would not turn his head to look at one of them." "Do not results tell when we are right?" asked Anthony. "They should," said Mr. Sparhawk, "and probably they do. In your grandfather's day," with a nod of the head, "the house worked like a clock. It was regularity itself. One could count upon it absolutely." "You don't find it so now?" said Anthony, and he looked at the little man keenly. "Don't mistake my meaning," said Mr. Sparhawk. "It is still a steady house; it is still one to hold to with respect. But the steadiness is not of the same quality. Great strokes are made; fine things are done; but, between them, other things fail most singularly. There seem to be pitfalls, so to speak, where in old Rufus's day all would have been solid ground." There was a short pause; Anthony laid his pipe upon the window-sill and studied the smiling, perky little man beside him. Then he spoke. "Mr. Sparhawk," said he, "I wonder do you recall the night last fall when we met at the house of Dr. King." "Very well," said Mr. Sparhawk. "Quite well. It was a pleasure, and a surprise." "Whitaker was there," said Anthony, "and he spoke of several losses Rufus Stevens' Sons had had at sea." "He did," said Mr. Sparhawk. "I think I could name the very ships." "They were the _Sea Mew_ and _Two Brothers_." "Right," said Mr. Sparhawk. "Stout, able vessels; well found and competently mastered." "They were lost, I hear, within a few months of each other," said Anthony. "Let us say three," said Mr. Sparhawk. "It was less, I think, but, to be quite sure, we'll put it at three." "And the loss of each was noted at the time as singular, I believe?" said Anthony. "Unusual," said Mr. Sparhawk. "Quite unusual." "During these past months," said Anthony, "I have been going into the books of the house for some years back." "Dr. King mentioned that," said Mr. Sparhawk, and there was a pleasant interest in his face. "I find in my searching there were other losses before the two we've mentioned," said Anthony. "And there were some after." Mr. Sparhawk nodded. "Your grandfather never had a complete loss," said he. "No matter how desperate the mischance, something was always saved from the wreck. And, with his ships, disaster was always written in terms a sailorman could understand: wind or wave, shoal or rock." "I see what you mean," said Anthony. "None of his vessels foundered in the night, like the _Two Brothers_, and left their companies adrift in small boats on a sea as quiet as a lake." "That was odd," said Mr. Sparhawk. "That was very odd." "And the _Sea Mew_?" said Anthony. Mr. Sparhawk crossed his worsted-clad legs and sat back at his ease.