They went to lunch together in a favorite restaurant of Pryor’s, a little Austrian place in one of the side streets east of the Pershing Square district. "A fine scrape you got me into with your tip about Paris!" began Robert, as soon as they were served. "I’ve never seen you in better spirits," returned Pryor, cool as a cucumber. "Are you engaged to marry Janet?" Robert stared at him. "No," he said emphatically. "Then you’re not the man I took you for." "I’m not," said Robert, chuckling. So Pryor knew nothing of the inheritance! And if Pryor knew nothing, who would know? He had rather supposed that the news would create something of a stir. The Lorillard tenements and Kips Bay generally should, in all conscience, have been agog with it. But so far not a word had been said by anybody he had met. Clearly, it took a good deal to ripple the pachydermatous surface of this monster city of New York! Well, he would volunteer nothing. It was just as well to keep one or two cards up your sleeve, especially when you matched your wits against a clever man like Pryor. Meanwhile Pryor did the talking. Did Robert mean to sit there and tell him that he had missed the opportunity of a lifetime? He’d be blessed if he ever threw him a chance like that again. "A chance!" interrupted Robert. "Are you sure it wasn’t a noose?" "Don’t talk through your hat, Lloyd," said Pryor, affecting indignation. "Janet’s a girl in a million. Whoever marries her is a made man." "You are a cool hand," said Robert, lost in admiration. "I don’t know what in thunder your game is. Let me say this, though. As a man of mystery you may be as superb a demon as Mark Twain’s _Mysterious Stranger_. But as a matchmaker you’re a hopeless old blunderbuss." He briefly outlined his recent experiences in Paris, including the tableau of himself in the act of stumbling upon Janet and M. St. Hilaire; he also sketched the sequel to this climax. Pryor’s restless eyes remained singularly still during this recital. At its close, he offered one enigmatic remark: "If Janet’s coming to New York, we may yet be able to pull the chestnuts out of the fire." In response to further questions, Robert gave a few intimate word pictures of unpublishable incidents at the Geneva Labor Congress. He also touched rather pepperily on his recall by the Confederated Press. "Serve you right," said Pryor. "To a plain man like me reformers who try to change moral standards, whether for better or for worse, are a nuisance. Too many obstacles cannot be put in their path." "All I did was to tell the truth about my own side," said Robert indignantly. "What! Peach on your own side? Why, even the yeggmen consider that bad form." Robert smiled in spite of himself.