The Old Man's assertion that there would be but little time lost finally dispelled Peter's misgivings. He would have foregone the doubtful pleasure of the lush-up ashore rather than have risked the chance of still further delaying the delivery of the Brocklington Ironworks Company's contract; but now, with these reassurances, Mostyn felt that he could accept the hospitality of the new-found friends without any pinpricks of conscience. Punctually at the time stated Peter presented himself at the club. Already the Head Commissioner and the port officials were there to welcome their guests. A little later a rickshaw trundled up to the entrance, and Preston put in an appearance, assisted by a couple of the club servants. Then, in Peter's eyes at least, a radiant vision arrived, as Olive Baird, simply yet daintily dressed in one of Mrs. Davis's evening frocks, and escorted by her host and hostess, was ushered into the ante-room. Her introduction to the Head Commissioner took a very considerable time--at least Peter thought so--while others of the Pangawani community flocked up to the girl like flies round a honey-pot. At length the Head Commissioner suggested that it was time to adjourn to the dining-room. "We're all here, I take it?" he inquired. "Mrs. Shallop hasn't arrived yet," replied one of his colleagues, who, although deputed beforehand to take the lady into dinner, was in total ignorance of what she was like or of her rather outstanding mannerisms. "We sent a rickshaw to her hotel an hour ago, sir." Before the Commissioner could make any remark upon the lady's absence a native servant approached, salaamed, and offered a silver plate upon which was a pencilled note. "Excuse me a moment," said the Commissioner to his guests. He pulled aside the bamboo chik that separated the ante-room from the foyer. As he strode out Peter noticed that there was a tall man in a drill uniform standing in front of a couple of native policemen. Mostyn was not in the least curious. He was aware that the leisure time of a highly-placed official is hardly ever free from interruptions upon matters of state. But he was considerably surprised when a couple of minutes later the Head Commissioner pulled aside the curtain and said: "Mr. Mostyn, may I speak to you for a few moments?" Peter went out. The uniformed officer and the two policemen were standing stiffly at attention. The Commissioner without any preamble plunged into facts. "This is Inspector Williams of the Kilba Protectorate Police Force," he announced. "He holds a warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Shallop, or, to give her--or, rather, him--his correct name, Benjamin Skeets. He is very badly wanted at home for extensive frauds on the United Trusts Banking Company. His partner in crime, Joseph Shales, whom probably you know under the name of Mr. Shallop, is already in the hands of the Union of South Africa Police. I suppose this is news to you?"