"Well, as I was saying," the editor went on, "we on this paper are very anxious to secure news of society doings. If they are printable, we print them; if they are not printable"--he paused--"we do not print them. But," he raised a warning forefinger, "the fact that particulars of disgraceful happenings are not fit for publication must not induce you to cast such stories into the wastepaper basket. We keep a record of such matters for our own private amusement." He said this latter airily, but Poltavo was not deceived. Again there was a long silence whilst the man at the table ruminated. "Where do you live?" he asked. "On the fourth floor of a small house in Bloomsbury," replied Poltavo. The veiled figure nodded. "When did you come to this country?" "Six months ago." "Why?" Poltavo shrugged his shoulders. "Why?" insisted the man at the table. "A slight matter of disagreement between myself and the admirable chief of police of Sans Sebastian," he said as airily as the other. Again the figure nodded. "If you had told me anything else, I should not have engaged you," he said. "Why?" asked Poltavo in surprise. "Because you are speaking the truth," said the other coolly. "Your matter of disagreement with the police in Sans Sebastian was over the missing of some money in the hotel where you were staying. The room happened to be next to yours and communicating, if one had the ingenuity to pick the lock of the door. Also your inability to pay the hotel bill hastened your departure." "What an editor!" said the other admiringly, but without showing any signs of perturbation or embarrassment. "It is my business to know something about everybody," said the editor. "By the way, you may call me Mr. Brown, and if at times I may seem absent-minded when I am so addressed you must excuse me, because it is not my name. Yes, you are the kind of man I want." "It is remarkable that you should have found me," said Poltavo. "The cutting"--he indicated the newspaper clip--"was sent to me by an unknown friend." "I was the unknown friend," said "Mr. Brown"; "do you understand the position?" Poltavo nodded. "I understand everything," he said, "except the last and most important of all matters; namely, the question of my salary." The man named a sum--a generous sum to Poltavo, and Mr. Brown, eyeing him keenly, was glad to note that his new assistant was neither surprised nor impressed. "You will see very little of me at this office," the editor went on. "If you work well, and I can trust you, I will double the salary I am giving you; if you fail me, you will be sorry for yourself." He rose.