Mr. Thacker sat in plump and genial prosperity before a polished flat-top desk. Opposite him, at a desk equally polished, sat an even more polished young American of capable bearing. For an embarrassed moment the tall youth in fur stood looking from one to the other. Then Mr. Thacker spoke: "You have business with Lloyds?" The tall young man blushed. "I--I hope to have--yes." There was in his speech that faint suggestion of a lisp that marks many of the well-born of his race. Perhaps it is the golden spoon in their mouths interfering a bit with their diction. "What can we do for you?" Mr. Thacker was cold and matter-of-fact, like a card index. Steadily through each week he grew more businesslike--and this was Saturday morning. The visitor performed a shaky but remarkable juggling feat with his walking-stick. "I--well--I--" he stammered. Oh, come, come, thought Mr. Thacker impatiently. "Well," said the tall young man desperately "perhaps it would be best for me to make myself known at once. I am Allan, Lord Harrowby, son and heir of James Nelson Harrowby, Earl of Raybrook. And I--I have come here--" The younger of the Americans spoke, in more kindly fashion: "You have a proposition to make to Lloyds?" "Exactly," said Lord Harrowby, and sank with a sigh of relief into a chair, as though that concluded his portion of the entertainment. "Let's hear it," boomed the relentless Thacker. Lord Harrowby writhed in his chair. "I am sure you will pardon me," he said, "if I preface my--er--proposition with the statement that it is utterly--fantastic. And if I add also that it should be known to the fewest possible number." Mr. Thacker waved his hand across the gleaming surfaces of two desks. "This is my assistant manager, Mr. Richard Minot," he announced. "Mr. Minot, you must know, is in on all the secrets of the firm. Now, let's have it." "I am right, am I not," his lordship continued, "in the assumption that Lloyds frequently takes rather unusual risks?" "Lloyds," answered Mr. Thacker, "is chiefly concerned with the fortunes of those who go down to--and sometimes down into--the sea in ships. However, there are a number of non-marine underwriters connected with Lloyds, and these men have been known to risk their money on pretty giddy chances. It's all done in the name of Lloyds, though the firm is not financially responsible." Lord Harrowby got quickly to his feet "Then it would be better," he said, relieved, "for me to take my proposition to one of these non-marine underwriters." Mr. Thacker frowned. Curiosity agitated his bosom. "You'd have to go to London to do that," he remarked. "Better give us an inkling of what's on your mind." His lordship tapped uneasily at the base of Mr. Thacker's desk with his stick. "If you will pardon me--I'd rather not," he said. "Oh, very well," sighed Mr. Thacker. "How about Owen Jephson?" asked Mr. Minot suddenly. Overjoyed, Mr. Thacker started up.