He removed his mask, revealing the face of a good-looking young man, rather pale, with a slight dark mustache and heavy, black, wavy hair. He closed the window, filled his pipe from the well-worn pouch which he took from his pocket, and began to write in a notebook, stopping now and again to consult some authority from the books before him. In half an hour he had finished this work, had blotted and closed his book, and, pushing back his chair, gave himself up to reverie. They were not pleasant thoughts to judge by his face. He pulled from his inside pocket a leather case and opened it. From this he took a photograph. It was the picture of a girl of sixteen. It was a pretty face, a little sad, but attractive in its very weakness. He looked at it for a long time, shaking his head as at an unpleasant thought. There came a gentle tap at the door, and quickly he replaced the photograph in his case, folded it, and returned it to his pocket as he rose to unlock the door. John Minute, who entered, sniffed suspiciously. "What beastly smells you have in here, Jasper!" he growled. "Why on earth don't they invent chemicals that are more agreeable to the nose?" Jasper Cole laughed quietly. "I'm afraid, sir, that nature has ordered it otherwise," he said. "Have you finished?" asked his employer. He looked at the still warm bowl of fluid suspiciously. "It is all right, sir," said Jasper. "It is only noxious when it is boiling. That is why I keep the door locked." "What is it?" asked John Minute, scowling down at the unoffending liquor. "It is many things," said the other ruefully. "In point of fact, it is an experiment. The bowl contains one or two elements which will only mix with the others at a certain temperature, and as an experiment it is successful because I have kept the unmixable elements in suspension, though the liquid has gone cold." "I hope you will enjoy your dinner, even though it has gone cold," grumbled John Minute. "I didn't hear the bell, sir," said Jasper Cole. "I'm awfully sorry if I've kept you waiting." They were the only two present in the big, black-looking dining room, and dinner was as usual a fairly silent meal. John Minute read the newspapers, particularly that portion of them which dealt with the latest fluctuations in the stock market. "Somebody has been buying Gwelo Deeps," he complained loudly. Jasper looked up. "Gwelo Deeps?" he said. "But they are the shares--" "Yes, yes," said the other testily; "I know. They were quoted at a shilling last week; they are up to two shillings and threepence. I've got five hundred thousand of them; to be exact," he corrected himself, "I've got a million of them, though half of them are not my property. I am almost tempted to sell." "Perhaps they have found gold," suggested Jasper. John Minute snorted. "If there is gold in the Gwelo Deeps there are diamonds on the downs," he said scornfully. "By the way, the other five hundred thousand shares belong to May."