“I feel like a cross between a burglar and a blooming ass,” said Allyne, to break the unbearable silence. “By Jove, Fair, my wealth is at your disposal, but I’ll be hanged if you can borrow much more of my nervous energy! What’s the beastly game, anyhow?” “I do think,” added Travers, more seriously, “that we’ve followed you in the dark about as long as a decent regard for our feelings—as well as for your own interests—will permit. Seriously, old chap, I do not think we should allow you to go on in this way. Elucidate, like a good fellow.” “On my honor, Dick,” replied Fair, speaking with great earnestness, “this is no fool’s errand that I have asked you and Allyne to undertake. It is the last favor that I shall ever ask you to do me. Sit down. I’ll go downstairs and see if I can’t scare up something to drink.” “That’s the first rational thing you’ve said since yesterday,” said Allyne. “Go, by all means, old man, and make it brandy and soda.” “Back in a moment,” answered Fair, disappearing. “Honestly, Travers, what do you make of it?” asked Allyne when they were alone. “If it’s a joke he has carried it rather far. What is it?” “Oh, Lord, I don’t know,” replied Travers wearily and with very genuine anxiety. “If it were any other man—but Fair is the coolest and sanest devil I ever knew. I don’t like this turn of affairs on my word. Money and women are the only two things that could bowl a chap over on his beam ends in this way, and Fair can show a clean slate under both of those heads—so I give it up. But I, for one, go no further.” “Unless I am mistaken, his father or grandfather was mad,” whispered Allyne, pursing up his lips uncomfortingly; “but I never thought Maxwell dippy—that is, you know, not unusually so. He is devilish queer.” “In England,” answered Travers, with a sneer, “everyone is thought mad who manifests any trace of originality. In the city they think Fair a bit off his head because he does everything that sacred British methods decry—and grows rich at it. And in society they think him singular because he has such a childish way of telling the truth. You and I know that he makes friends in society just as he makes money in the city. No, I don’t think Fair is mad—I wish to heaven I could think so.” Allyne was striding up and down the room by this time, and when he next reached Travers he stopped and said: “Confound it, Travers, he can’t have done anything so rum as all this melodramatic rot would make one think. Give him credit for too good taste for that, at least.” “Oh, never fear,” replied Travers, rising; “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll give him half an hour more. If he does not chuck this mystery and give us the key in plain English, I’ll report the case to his solicitor and medical man.”