The new-comer, evidently well known from the familiar way in which nods and brief salutations were exchanged for him, bustled up to the bar, called for a glass of bitter beer and helped himself to a crust of bread and a bit of cheese from the provender at his elbow. Leaning one elbow on the counter and munching his snack he entered into conversation with one or two men near him; here, again, the talk as far as we could catch it, was of seafaring matters. But we did not catch the name of the man in the shirt-sleeves, and when, after he had finished his refreshment, he nodded to the company and bustled out as quickly as he had entered, Scarterfield gave me a look, and we left the room in his wake, following him. Our quarry bustled down the alley and turned the corner into the old High Street. He was evidently well known there; we saw several passers-by exchange greetings with him. Always bustling along, as if he were a man whose time was precious, he presently crossed the narrow roadway and turned into an office, over the window of which was a sign--"Jallanby, Ship Broker." He had only got a foot across his threshold, however, when Scarterfield was at his elbow. "Excuse me, sir," he said politely. "May I have a word with you?" The man turned, stared, evidently recognized Scarterfield as a stranger he had just seen in the Goose and Crane, and turned from him to me. "Yes?" he answered questionably. "What is it?" Scarterfield pulled out his pocket-book and produced his official card. "You'll see who I am from that," he remarked. "This gentleman's a friend of mine--just now giving me some professional help. I take it you're Mr. Jallanby?" The ship-broker started a little as he glanced at the card and realized Scarterfield's calling. "Yes, I'm Mr. Jallanby," he answered. "Come inside, gentlemen." He led the way into a dark, rather dismal and dusty little office, and signed to a clerk who was writing there to go out. "What is it, Mr. Scarterfield?" he asked. "Some information?" "You've hit it sir," replied Scarterfield. "That's just what we do want; we came here to Hull on purpose to find you, believing you can give it. From something we heard only yesterday afternoon, Mr. Jallanby, a long way from here, we believe that one morning about three weeks ago, you were in the Goose and Crane in that very room where we saw you just now, in company with two men--smartly dressed men, in blue serge suits and straw hats; one of them with a pointed, golden-brown beard. Do you remember?" I was watching the ship-broker's face while Scarterfield spoke, and I saw that deep interest, wonder, perhaps suspicion was being aroused in him. "Bless me!" he exclaimed. "You don't mean to say they're--wanted?" "I mean to say that I want to get some information about them, and very particularly," answered Scarterfield. "You do remember that morning, then?"