Jasper Cole raised his eyebrows as much in interrogation as in surprise. John Minute leaned back in his chair and manipulated his gold toothpick. "May Nuttall's father was the best friend I ever had," he said gruffly. "He lured me into the Gwelo Deeps against my better judgment We sank a bore three thousand feet and found everything except gold." He gave one of his brief, rumbling chuckles. "I wish that mine had been a success. Poor old Bill Nuttall! He helped me in some tight places." "And I think you have done your best for his daughter, sir." "She's a nice girl," said John Minute, "a dear girl. I'm not taken with girls." He made a wry face. "But May is as honest and as sweet as they make them. She's the sort of girl who looks you in the eye when she talks to you; there's no damned nonsense about May." Jasper Cole concealed a smile. "What the devil are you grinning at?" demanded John Minute. "I also was thinking that there was no nonsense about her," he said. John Minute swung round. "Jasper," he said, "May is the kind of girl I would like you to marry; in fact, she _is_ the girl I would like you to marry." "I think Frank would have something to say about that," said the other, stirring his coffee. "Frank!" snorted John Minute. "What the devil do I care about Frank? Frank has to do as he's told. He's a lucky young man and a bit of a rascal, too, I'm thinking. Frank would marry anybody with a pretty face. Why, if I hadn't interfered--" Jasper looked up. "Yes?" "Never mind," growled John Minute. As was his practice, he sat a long time over dinner, half awake and half asleep. Jasper had annexed one of the newspapers, and was reading it. This was the routine which marked every evening of his life save on those occasions when he made a visit to London. He was in the midst of an article by a famous scientist on radium emanation, when John Minute continued a conversation which he had broken off an hour ago. "I'm worried about May sometimes." Jasper put down his paper. "Worried! Why?" "I am worried. Isn't that enough?" growled the other. "I wish you wouldn't ask me a lot of questions, Jasper. You irritate me beyond endurance." "Well, I'll take it that you're worried," said his confidential secretary patiently, "and that you've good reason." "I feel responsible for her, and I hate responsibilities of all kinds. The responsibilities of children--" He winced and changed the subject, nor did he return to it for several days. Instead he opened up a new line. "Sergeant Smith was here when I was out, I understand," he said. "He came this afternoon--yes." "Did you see him?" Jasper nodded. "What did he want?" "He wanted to see you, as far as I could make out. You were saying the other day that he drinks." "Drinks!" said the other scornfully. "He doesn't drink; he eats it. What do you think about Sergeant Smith?" he demanded.