Betty had whipped round again. Her face was white with excitement. "It's true," she whispered. "I was right. Do you see who that is with him? The man?" "Do you know him? He's a stranger to me." "It's Mr. Parker," said Betty. John drew in his breath sharply. "Are you sure?" "Positive." John laughed quietly. He thought for a moment, then beckoned to the hovering waiter. "What are you going to do?" asked Betty. "Bring me a small lemon," said John. "Lemon squash, sir?" "Not a lemon squash. A plain lemon. The fruit of that name. The common or garden citron, which is sharp to the taste and not pleasant to have handed to one. Also a piece of note paper, a little tissue paper, and an envelope. "What are you going to do?" asked Betty again. John beamed. "Did you ever read the Sherlock Holmes story entitled 'The Five Orange Pips'? Well, when a man in that story received a mysterious envelope containing five orange pips, it was a sign that he was due to get his. It was all over, as far as he was concerned, except 'phoning for the undertaker. I propose to treat Mr. Scobell better than that. He shall have a whole lemon." The waiter returned. John wrapped up the lemon carefully, wrote on the note paper the words, "To B. Scobell, Esq., Property Owner, Broster Street, from Prince John of _Peaceful Moments_, this gift," and enclosed it in the envelope. "Do you see that gentleman at the table by the pillar?" he said. "Give him these. Just say a gentleman sent them." The waiter smiled doubtfully. John added a two-dollar bill to the collection in his hand. "You needn't give him that," he said. The waiter smiled again, but this time not doubtfully. "And now," said John as the messenger ambled off, "perhaps it would be just as well if we retired." CHAPTER XXVIII THE FINAL ATTEMPT Proof that his shot had not missed its mark was supplied to John immediately upon his arrival at the office on the following morning, when he was met by Pugsy Maloney with the information that a gentleman had called to see him. "With or without a black-jack?" enquired John. "Did he give any name?" "Sure. Parker's his name. He blew in oncst before when Mr. Smith was here. I loosed him into de odder room." John walked through. The man he had seen with Mr. Scobell at the Knickerbocker was standing at the window. "Mr. Parker?" The other turned, as the door opened, and looked at him keenly. "Are you Mr. Maude?" "I am," said John. "I guess you don't need to be told what I've come about?" "No." "See here," said Mr. Parker. "I don't know how you've found things out, but you've done it, and we're through. We quit." "I'm glad of that," said John. "Would you mind informing Spider Reilly of that fact? It will make life pleasanter for all of us." "Mr. Scobell sent me along here to ask you to come and talk over this thing with him. He's at the Knickerbocker. I've a cab waiting outside. Can you come along?" "I'd rather he came here."