Having effected the substitution with the ease of a David Devant, he hastened to a quiet corner to inspect his haul. He was not unduly elated. He had been prompt and clever, but in justice to him, it must be admitted that he was a clever man. Therefore he regarded the incident merely as part of the day's work. His success wrought no quickening of the pulse. In a little palmy balcony which overlooked the lobby he took the envelope from his pocket. It bore the inscription: RADLEY GALE, ESQ. Quietly, his cheroot stuck in a corner of his mouth, he opened it--tearing the end off as all Americans do. He pulled out the scribbled note, and read as follows: "MY DEAR GALE,--Don't forget that we're expecting your wife and yourself along about 7. I will say no more as I rather think an impudent American detective (?) is going to purloin this note. "SHEARD." Mr. Alden carefully replaced the torn leaf in the envelope, and the envelope in his case. He rolled his smoke from the left corner of his mouth to the right, and, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, walked slowly downstairs. He was not offended. Mr. Aloys. X. Alden was a Stoic who had known for many years that he was not the only clever man in the world. CHAPTER XIII THE LISTENER Sheard sat with both elbows resting upon his writing-table. A suburban quietude reigned about him, for the hour was long past midnight. Before him was spread out the final edition of the _Gleaner_ and prominent upon the front page appeared:-- SIR LEOPOLD JESSON AND MR. HOHSMANN FALL INTO LINE With a tact which was inspired by private information from a certain source, the _Gleaner_ had pooh-poohed the story of the mysterious cards received by the guests at Julius Rohscheimer's. The story had leaked out, of course, but Sheard was in no way responsible for the leakage. Frantically, representatives of the _Gleaner's_ rivals had sought for confirmation from the lips of the victims; but, as had been foreseen by the astute Sheard, no confirmation was forthcoming. There had been an informal council held at the urgent request of Rohscheimer, whereat it had been decided that for the latter to appear, now, in the light of a victim of Severac Bablon, would be for him to throw away such advantages as might accrue--to throw a potential peerage after his lost L100,000! Baron Hague had been coerced into silence, and had left for Berlin without seeing a single newspaper man. Mr. Elschild had persisted that his donation was entirely a voluntary one. Jesson had been most urgent for placing the true facts before Scotland Yard, but had finally fallen in with Rohscheimer's wishes. "You see, Jesson," the latter had argued, "I'll never get my money back. It's gone as completely as if I'd burnt it! All I've got to hope for is a peerage; and I'd lose that if I started crying."