Starmidge sent off his telegram when the train stopped at Nottingham, and thereafter went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that it would be promptly acted upon by its recipients. And when, soon after eleven o'clock, the express ran into St. Pancras, he paid no particular attention to Gabriel Chestermarke. He had no desire, indeed, that the banker should see him, and he hung back when the crowded carriages cleared, and the platform became a scene of bustle and animation. But he had no difficulty in distinguishing Gabriel's stiffly erect figure as it made its way towards the hall of the station, and his sharp eyes were quick to notice a quietly dressed, unobtrusive sort of man who sauntered along, caught sight of the banker, and swung round to follow him. Starmidge watched both pass along towards the waiting lines of vehicles--then he turned on his heel and went to the refreshment room and straight to a man who evidently expected him. "You got the wire in good time, then?" said Starmidge. "Plenty!" answered the other man laconically. "I've put a good man on to him. See anything of them?" "Yes--but I didn't know our man," remarked Starmidge. "Who is he? Will he do what I want?" "He's all right--fellow who's just been promoted, and, of course, he's naturally keen," replied Starmidge's companion. "Name of Gandam. That was a pretty good and full description of the man you want followed, Starmidge," he went on, with a smile. "You don't leave much out!" "I didn't want him to be overlooked, and I didn't want to show up myself," said Starmidge. "I noticed that our man spotted him quick. Now, look here--I'll be at headquarters first thing tomorrow morning--I want this chap Gandam's report. Nine-thirty sharp! Now we'll have a drink, and I'll get home." "Good case, this?" asked the other man, as they pledged each other. "Getting on with it?" "Tell you more tomorrow," answered Starmidge. "When--and if--I know more. Nine-thirty, mind!" But when Starmidge met his companion of the night before at nine-thirty next morning, it was to find him in conversation with the other man, and to see dissatisfaction on the countenances of both. And Starmidge, a naturally keen observer, knew what had happened. He frowned as he looked at Gandam. "You don't mean to say he slipped you!" he exclaimed. "I don't know about slipped," muttered Gandam. "I lost him, anyway, Mr. Starmidge, and I don't see how I can be blamed, either. Perhaps you might have done differently, but----" "Tell about it!" interrupted Starmidge. "What happened?"