"Other people do," was mine; for I was nettled a bit. "Here are some of the editors asking questions already, and I'll bet the evening papers will be like dogs about a bone. This man may be a damned fool, but he's dangerous: that's to say he has started mischief." "Oh, surely--not dangerous?" Foe queried, with an odd lift of his eyebrows. "If I were you, at all events, I'd go straight and consult your man-- what's his name? Travers?--at once. My taxi is waiting, and I'll run across in time to interview him before you start your morning's work. Did he show you his answer to these precious Memorialists before he posted it?" For the moment Foe ignored my question. "Dangerous?" he repeated in a musing, questioning way. "Do you really think . . . I beg your pardon, Roddy . . . Eh? You were asking about Travers. Yes, he showed me his answer. Very good answer, I thought. It just told them to mind their own business." "Did he say that, in so many words?" I asked. "Let me think. . . . So far as I remember he put it rather neatly. . . . Yes, he wrote that he was not prepared to worry his staff with vague charges, or to invite an inquiry on the strength of representations which--so far as he could attach a meaning to them-- meant what was false. But he added that if the Memorialists would kindly put these charges into writing, defining the practices complained of, and naming the persons accused, they should be dealt with in the proper way which (he understood) the law provided." "Capital," said I. "Your Principal is no fool. Go off straight and consult him. Take these papers--the whole bundle--" Foe took them up and pushed them into the pockets of his great-coat. "_You_ think he's dangerous?" he asked again, in an absent-minded way. "Eh? . . . Oh, you're talking of Farrell?" said I. "Farrell's a fool, and fools are always dangerous." Thereupon Jack Foe did and said that which I had afterwards some cause to remember. He passed his hand over his forehead, much as a man might brush away a cobweb flung across his evening walk between hedges. "That man makes me tired," he said; "extraordinarily tired. For two nights I've been trying not to dream about him. It was very good of you to come, Roddy. You shall run me over in your taxi and I'll speak to Travers. If the man is a fool--" "A dangerous fool," I corrected. "Coward, too, I should judge. Yes, certainly, I'll speak to Travers." I put down Foe at the gates of his College and speeded home. Jimmy had breakfasted and gone forth to take the air. I sat down to open my letters and answer them. In the middle of this my agent arrived. We lunched together and spent the afternoon canvassing. This lasted until dinner, for which I returned to my Club. Thence a taxi took me East again to Bethnal Green for a meeting. The importance of these details is that they kept me from having word with Jimmy, or seeing fur or feather of him, for more than twenty-four hours.