Conrad waited, tense and expectant, the quite apparent fact that Jenkins was engaged in mere desultory chat and story-telling increasing his irritation at the delay. He had jumped to the conclusion that Jenkins knew who Delafield was, and his breath came short and chokingly at the thought that in a few minutes he, too, would know. To know would be to act. His revolver was in his hip-pocket, and he intended to go straight from the interview to that meeting which for half his years had been the one goal of his thought. He glanced at Jenkins, saying to himself, "He looks like a weasel, and I reckon he is just enough of one to have wormed around and worked this thing out." Jenkins was tall, slender, and slightly stooped, his face long and thin, with its salient features crowded too close together. "I reckon he knows, all right," Conrad's thought went on, "and he'll tell me if I make the inducement big enough--he'd do anything for money!" Under cover of the conversation Jenkins had been doing his share of rapid thinking, prolonging the talk for that very purpose. He was putting together, with the acumen of a man in whom detective processes are a natural endowment, enough facts to convince him of the reason for Conrad's visit, considering the while just what he should do. He felt sure that he must expect a direct question about Delafield's identity, but he put off decision upon his response until he should hear the inquiry. "Now, Mr. Conrad, we'll go straight up to my room," he said cordially, laying a familiar hand upon the other's shoulder. Curtis shrank back a little, falling behind with a promptitude that left no doubt of his intention to keep the interview entirely formal. Jenkins licked his lips with an unwholesome smile, and led the way in silence. As the door closed behind them, Conrad became aware of an increase of repugnance toward this man so great that the necessity of dealing with him was an irritation. "Well, Mr. Conrad," said Jenkins, cheerfully, giving the other no time to state his mission, "I hear you are putting in some good licks for Johnny Martinez down in Silverside. What do you think of his chances down there? Pretty good, aren't they?" "Yes, I think so," Curtis replied curtly; and plunged into his own affair. "I have understood, Mr. Jenkins, from my friend Mr. Littleton, of Chicago, whom you met last week, that you are interested in a matter of prime importance to me, and that you have some information I want to get hold of." "Oh, yes; I remember meeting Littleton last week," Jenkins broke in. "A good fellow, too. So he's a friend of yours, is he? Yes; he and I scraped up quite a friendship and had a good time together. But say, Conrad, the amount of throat varnish that man can stand is something amazing!"