My wife--for I had married three years before, just after I had entered the motor business--had from the first put him down as an adventurer, and a person to be avoided. Her woman's instinct generally led to correct conclusions. Indeed, one night, when out with her sister, she had seen him in evening dress, seated in a box at a theatre with a lady, in pale blue and diamonds, and another man; and on a second occasion she had witnessed him at Charing Cross Station registering luggage to the Continent. He had with him two smartly-dressed men, who were seeing him off. I myself had more than once seen him arrive in a hansom with well-worn suit-cases and travelling kit, and on several occasions, when driving a car through the London traffic, I had caught sight of him in silk hat and frock-coat walking in the West End with his smart friends. Women are generally inquisitive regarding their neighbours, and my wife was no exception. She had discovered that this Mr. Kershaw Kirk was a bachelor, whose home was kept by an unmarried sister, Miss Judith, about nine years his junior. They employed a charwoman every Friday, but, as Miss Kirk's brother was absent so frequently, they preferred not to employ a general servant. Now, I was rather suspicious of this fact. The man Kirk was a mystery, and servants are always prone to pry into their master's affairs. My visitor was silent for a few moments after he had taken the chair I had offered. His dark eyes were fixed upon me with a strange, intense look, until, with some hesitation, he at last said: "I believe, Mr. Holford, you are agent for a new German tyre--the Eckhardt it is called, is it not?" "I am," I replied. "I am sole agent in London." "Well, I want to examine one," he exclaimed, "but in strict confidence. Other persons will probably come to you and beg to see this particular tyre, but I wish you to regard the fact that I have seen it as entirely between ourselves. Will you do so? A very serious issue depends upon your discretion--how serious you will one day realise." I looked at him in surprise. His request for secrecy struck me as distinctly peculiar. "Well, of course, if you wish," I replied, "I'll regard the fact that you have seen the Eckhardt non-skid as confidential. Is it in connection with any new invention?" I asked suspiciously. "Not at all," he laughed. "I have nothing whatever to do with motor-cars or the motor trade. I merely wish to satisfy myself by looking at one of the new tyres." So I went upstairs, and brought down one of the German covers for his inspection. He took it in his hands, and, very careful that Dick should not observe him from the outside, closely examined the triangular steel studs with which the cover was fitted.