"Darn the luck," growled Stuyvie, following a heroic effort to restore his physical equilibrium. "I wouldn't have had her see me here with this crowd for half the money in New York. She'll get a bad impression of me. Look at 'em! My Lord, they're all stewed. I say, you go over and tell that man with the big nose at the head of my table that I've been suddenly called away, and--" "Take my advice, and sit tight." Stuyvie's mind wandered. "Say, do you know who that rippin' creature is over there with the fat Irishman? She's a dream." The sallow man did not deign to look. He bent a little closer to Mr. Smith-Parvis. "Now, what is the next move, Mr. Smith-Parvis? I've located her right enough. Is this the end of the trail?" "Sh!" cautioned Stuyvie, loudly. Then even more loudly: "Don't you know any better than to roar like that? There's a man sitting up there--" "He can't understand a word of English. Wop. Just landed. That's the guy the papers have been--" "I am not in the least interested in your conversation," said Stuyvie haughtily. "What were you saying?" "Am I through? That's what I want to know." "You have found out where she's stopping?" "Yep. Stayin' with the white-haired old lady. Dressmaking establishment. The office will make a full report to you tomorrow." "Wait a minute. Let me think." The sallow man waited for some time. Then he said: "Excuse me, Mr. Smith-Parvis, but I've got a friend over here. Stranger in New York. I'm detailed to entertain him." "You've got to shake him," said Stuyvie, arrogantly. "I want you to follow her home, and I'm going with you. As soon as I know positively where she lives, I'll decide on the next step we're to take. We'll have to work out some plan to get her away from that dressmakin' 'stablishment." The other gave him a hard look. "Don't count our people in on any rough stuff," he said levelly. "We don't go in for that sort of thing." Stuyvie winked. "We'll talk about that when the time comes." "Well, what I said goes. We're the oldest and most reliable agency in--" "I know all that," said Stuyvie, peevishly. "It is immaterial to me whether your agency or some other one does the job. Remember that, will you? I want that girl, and I don't give a--" "Good night, Mr. Smith-Parvis." "Wait a minute,--_wait_ a minute. Now, listen. When you see her getting ready to leave this place, rush out and get a taxi. I'll join you outside, and we'll--" "Very well. That's part of my job, I suppose. I will have to explain to my friend. He will understand." He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "He's in the same business. Special from Scotland Yard. My God, what bulldogs these Britishers are. He's been clear around the world, lookin' for a young English swell who lit out a couple of years ago. We've been taken in on the case,--and I'm on the job with him from now--" "And say," broke in Stuyvie, irrelevantly, "before you leave find out who that girl is over there with the fat Irishman. Understand?"