It was strange enough that it should then have occurred to him, for the first time, that he had no definite idea about what he was coming for. Layton and he had, it is true, some words, and Layton had given him time and place to continue the theme; but in what way? To make Layton reiterate in cold blood something he might have uttered in anger, and would probably retract, if called upon courteously,--this would be very poor policy. While, on the other hand, to permit him to insinuate anything on the score of his success at play might be even worse again. It was a case for very nice management, and so O'Shea thought, as, after arriving at a door bearing Layton's name on a visiting-card, he took a turn in the lobby to consider his course of proceeding. The more he thought over it, the more difficult he found it; in fact, at last he saw it to be one of those cases in which the eventuality alone can decide the line to take, and so he gave a vigorous pull at the bell, determined to begin the campaign at once. The door was not opened immediately, and he repeated his summons still louder. Scarcely had the rope quitted his hand, however, when a heavy bolt was drawn back, the door was thrown wide, and a tall athletic man, in shirt and trousers, stood before him. “Well, stranger, you arn't much distressed with patience, that's a fact,” said a strongly nasal accent, while the speaker gave a look of very fierce defiance at the visitor. “Am I speaking to Colonel Quackinboss?” asked O'Shea, in some surprise. “Well, sir, if it ain't him, it's some one in _his_ skin, I'm thinkin'.” “My visit was to Mr. Layton,” said the other, stiffly. “Is he at home?” “Yes, sir; but he 's not a-goin' to see you.” “I came here by his appointment.” “That don't change matters a red cent, stranger; and as I said a'ready, he ain't a-goin' to see you.” “Oh, then I 'm to understand that he has placed himself in _your_ hands? You assume to act for him?” said O'Shea, stiffly. “Well, if you like to take it from that platform, I 'll offer no objection,” said Quackinboss, gravely. “Am I, or am I not, to regard you as a friend on this occasion?” said O'Shea, authoritatively. “I 'll tell you a secret, stranger; you 'll not be your own friend if you don't speak to me in another tone of voice. I ain't used to be halloaed at, I ain't.” “One thing at a time, sir,” said O'Shea. “When I have finished the business which brought me here, I shall be perfectly at your service.” “Now I call that talkin' reasonable. Step inside, sir, and take a seat,” said Quackinboss, whose manner was now as calm as possible. Whatever irritation O'Shea really felt, he contrived to subdue it in appearance, as he followed the other into the room.