So all three of them got into the Captain's taxi, and hurried to the address which Isabelle gave the driver. There was some little difficulty in Mr. Clifford's outer office, but Captain O'Leary simplified it, by lifting the office boy out of the way, bodily, opening the door and marching in, followed by the two women. Startled glances were lifted to this tall officer, stranger to them all, who strode in, unannounced. The lawyer rose angrily. "How did you get in?" he demanded. "Walked. Present me to the Bryces, Miss Watts," he replied. Miss Watts in a trembling voice said: "Mrs. Bryce, this is Captain O'Leary, a friend of Isabelle's and mine from Bermuda." Mrs. Bryce stared--too astonished to speak. The tall, young man bowed. "This is my father," said Isabelle. The two men shook hands. "I object to this man's coming in here," began the editor of _Chit-Chat_. Captain O'Leary fixed him with a stormy eye. "We'll hear your objections later. I know all about this rotten deal. Is this Jean Jacques Petard?" "This is none of your business," began Clifford, but he never finished it. With one long arm Captain O'Leary reached for Monsieur Petard, lifted the gentleman by the seat of his trousers and his collar, bore him toward the door. Isabelle opened it for him. "Don't kill him," she said, as he went out. Wally and Clifford rushed after him. Isabelle followed and Miss Watts got as far as the door. Max and the editor sat still, but sounds came to them from the outer hall. It was about ten minutes later that O'Leary strode into the room again, with heightened colour but otherwise undisturbed. "We'll hear no more of Mr. Petard, I think. Now sir, it is your turn." The editor defended himself with a chair. "What business is this, of yours?" he yelled. "Miss Bryce is going to do me the honour of marrying me, and you'll jolly well see how much it is my business. Put down that chair, it is words for you, not blows. Mr. Bryce, if the ladies will leave us, we can settle shortly with this gentleman." Max and Miss Watts lost no time in obeying the hint. "Close the door, Isabelle, please," he said to her. "Who is this man?" demanded Mrs. Bryce. "Don't talk! If that creature hurts him," said Isabelle, her ear at the door. There were sounds of angry voices inside, loud argument. Then silence. After what seemed a long time, Larry opened the door. "Come in, now, please." They filed in. The editor was huddled in his chair. He was pretty much to pieces, nervously. Larry held up a package of letters. "Mrs. Bryce, the letters are in my possession. May I keep them, for the present, Isabelle?" She nodded. "This gentleman has just signed a paper, drawn up by Mr. Bryce and me, signed by Mr. Clifford. This will be held by Mr. Clifford, in case of need. That ends this conference, I believe," he said affably. The editor left hastily. Mr. Clifford went into the outer office, and Max turned to Isabelle.