“You will admit, Mr. Wolfe, that a man who has prospected all over North America from the Rio Grande to the Arctic Circle, and who has, unfortunately, been compelled”--he rose, went to his bureau, brought out two revolvers of a rather old-fashioned kind--“compelled against his will to draw first”--he showed the young man about a dozen notches in the handle of one of them--“one who fears no man and no government and no blackmailer; who owns the richest placer mines in the world--is not apt to be an emotional ass!” There was a pause. But Jemingham continued before young Wolfe could speak: “Neither is he a damned fool--what?” Mr. Francis Wolfe felt he had to say something, so he said, “I shouldn't think so.” He felt that Jemingham was not a man to trifle with--a tough customer in a rough-and-tumble fight; a man who had taken life in preserving his own; altogether a man, a character, who would make an admirable topic of conversation with both men and women--therefore a man to be interested in. “Do you know Mr. Ashton Welles?” asked Jer-ningham, almost sharply. “Not intimately.” “Do you know Mrs. Ashton Welles?” “Same answer.” “Ever dine at their house?” Frank thought a moment. He had dined at so many people's houses. “No,” he answered, finally. “Could you?” “How do you mean?” “Are your relations with Welles such, or could they be cultivated so, as to make him invite you--not me--you!--to dine at his house?” “Look here, Mr. Jerningham,” and young Mr. Wolfe's face flushed, “a fellow doesn't do some things for money; and this is one--” “I know it! Not for money. For friendship, yes! That's why--you understand now, don't you?” He looked so earnestly at young Wolfe that Frank absolved him of wrong-doing. “No, I don't!” said the young man. “Did you ever know Randolph Deering, who used to be president of the VanTwiller Trust Company?” “Do you mean Mrs. Welles's father?” “Yes.” “I don't recall speaking to him more than to say 'How do you do?' I don't remember when or how I met him.” “Do you know Mrs. Deering, Mrs. Welles's mother?” “No.” “Do you know anybody who does?” “I suppose I do.” “Anybody who would give you a letter of introduction?” “I don't know. If my aunt or my sisters know her it would be easy. But, of course, I should have to know first why I should want to meet her.” “Of course. Did you ever hear anything about Mrs. Welles's sister, Naida Deering?” “Didn't know she had a sister.” “Then, of course, you never saw her.” Francis Wolfe thought a long time. His mind did not work very quickly at any time. At length he said: “I don't think there could have been a sister, for I never heard of her having any; indeed, I distinctly remember hearing that she was an only child. Maybe she was a cousin or--er--something of the sort.”