"Funny thing happened this afternoon, sir," he said as I entered. "Two men, both mysterious persons, have come in, one after the other, to see an Eckhardt non-skid. They had no idea of buying one--merely wanted to see it. The second man wanted me to roll one along in the mud outside to show him the track it makes! Fancy me doing that with a new tyre!" His announcement puzzled me. These were the persons whose visit had been predicted by Kirk! What could it mean? "Didn't they give any reason why they wanted to see the cover?" "Said they'd heard about it--that was all," my manager replied. "Both men wanted to take all sorts of measurements, but I told them they'd better buy a set outright. I fancy it's some inventor's game. Somebody has got a scheme to improve on it, I expect, and bring it out as a British patent." But I kept my counsel and said nothing. I was already convinced that behind these three visits there was something unusual, and I determined to endeavour to extract the truth from Kershaw Kirk. Little did I dream the reason why the Eckhardt tyre was being so closely scrutinised by strangers. Little, likewise, did I dream of the curious events which were to follow, or the amazing whirl of adventure into which I was to be so suddenly launched. But I will set it all down just as it happened, and try to present you with the complete and straightforward narrative--a narrative which will show you what strange things can happen to a peaceful, steady-going, hard-working citizen in this Greater London of ours to-day. CHAPTER TWO. SOME STRANGE FACTS. Mr. Kirk opened his front door himself that evening, and conducted me to a cosy study at the end of the hall, where a fire burned brightly. In a black velvet lounge coat, a fancy vest, and bright, bead-embroidered slippers, he beamed a warm welcome upon me, and drew up a big saddle-bag arm-chair. From what I had seen of the house, I was surprised at its taste and elegance. There was certainly no sign of poverty there. The study was furnished with solid comfort, and the volumes that lined it were the books of a studious man. The cigar he offered me was an exquisite one, though he himself preferred his well-coloured meerschaum, which he filled from an old German tobacco bowl. In one corner of the room stood his pet, a large grey parrot in a cage, which he now and then addressed in the course of his conversation. One of his eccentricities was to think audibly and address his thoughts to his queer companion, whose name was Joseph. We must have been chatting for fully half an hour when I mentioned to him that two other persons had called that afternoon to inspect the new Eckhardt tyre, whereupon he suddenly started forward in his chair and exclaimed: "One of the men wore a dark beard and was slightly bald, while the other was a fair man, much younger--eh?"