The ambassador studied his finger-tips. "I might say," he observed gravely, "that such a course as you outline--minus the £500--had already occurred to me. Certain financial--er--adventures in which Grayson was engaged, with others, have come before my attention, and it appeared advisable to throw a searchlight upon the somewhat shadowy obscurity of his death. But my attitude in the investigation differs slightly from yours." His eyes, suddenly upraised, were slightly quizzical. Van Ingen leaned forward breathlessly. He appeared to hang on his companion's words. "Go on! Go on, sir!" he urged. The older man continued: "I do not ask, then, as you, where is Mr. Grayson? I ask, where is Mr. Grayson's money? The gentleman may be in heaven, or--ah!--elsewhere; presumably the latter. But, in either case, his money is not with him. Where is it, then? These, and several other interesting queries, I am waiting to put to Mr. Smith, who"--he took out his watch--"is due here in precisely ten minutes." He smiled blandly at the young man, who seized his hand and wrung it fervently. "And you will let me work under him, for you?" "That was my intention before this interview. But, since your revelation, I doubt its wisdom. Coolness, impartiality of judgment----" "Oh, come, sir!" protested Van Ingen, reddening. "I think I've had enough!" The ambassador laughed. "Perhaps you have," he conceded. "Especially as the young lady has not yet struck her colours--eh?" "Nor shows the slightest signs of doing so," replied Van Ingen ruefully. "There's another fellow making the running--that foreign beggar, Poltavo." The ambassador looked up swiftly. "Not Count Poltavo, distantly related to the Czar?" "Related to the devil!" muttered Van Ingen gloomily. "The way he gets around Doris----" His guardian looked a little disturbed. "I am sorry for you, my boy. Poltavo is a strong man. I fancy he will give you quite a fight." There was a discreet knock at the door, and, at the ambassador's call, Jamieson entered. He bore a card, which he laid upon the table. "I told him that you were engaged, Mr. Bierce, but he said he came in answer to your note." "Quite right!" replied the ambassador briskly. "Show him in at once." As the secretary vanished, the older man held up the bit of engraved pasteboard before the astonished eyes of his young friend. "Apropos!" he murmured. Van Ingen reached for his hat. "I must be going," he said hurriedly. "Not so fast!" The ambassador waved him back to his chair. "Sit still. The investigation has begun!" The door opened, and Count Poltavo entered the room. The ambassador received him cordially. "It was good of you to come so promptly," he said. "I daresay my note puzzled you." "I shall not deny it," smiled the count. He bowed politely to Van Ingen. "As you see, I have come directly on the heels of it, to hear the question."