“Perhaps he is underpaid,” the other returned. “Perhaps he is extravagant--I’ve seen him at the races and noticed that he patronized the _pari mutuel_--perhaps he has a wife and twelve children. I’ll leave it to you to decide, but I dare not take a risk.” Monty shivered. “It looks to me as if we were going to have a hell of a time.” “A little excitement possibly,” Denby said airily, “but nothing to justify language like that, though. You ought to have been with me last year at Buenos Ayres, Monty, and I could have shown you some sport.” “I don’t think I’m built for a life like that,” Monty admitted, and then reflected that this friend of his was an exceedingly mysterious being of whose adult life and adventures he knew nothing. For an uneasy moment he hoped his father would never discover this association, but there soon prevailed the old boyish spirit of hero-worship. Steven Denby might not conform to some people’s standards, but he felt certain he would do nothing criminal. One had to live, Monty reflected, and his father complained constantly of hard times. “What sort of sport was it?” he hazarded. “It had to do with the secret of a torpedo controlled by wireless,” Denby said. “A number of governments were after it and there collected in Buenos Ayres the choicest collection of high-grade adventurers that I have ever seen. Some day when I’m through with this pearl trouble I’ll tell you about it.” But what Denby had carelessly termed “pearl trouble” was quite sufficient for the less experienced man. He had a vivid imagination, more vivid now than at any period of his career. Paris was full of Apaches, he knew, and not all spent their days lying in the sun outside the barriers. Supposing one sprang from behind a tree and fell upon Denby and seized the precious package whose outline was discernible through the breast pocket of his coat. Monty suddenly took upon himself the rôle of an adviser. “It’s no use taking unnecessary risks,” he said. “I saw you put those pearls in your breast pocket, and there were at least six people who had the same opportunity as I. It’s just putting temptation in the way of a thief.” “I welcome this outbreak of caution on your part,” said Denby, laughing at his expression of anxiety, “but you’ll need it on board ship most. The greatest danger is that a couple of crooks may rob me and then pitch me overboard. Monty, for the sake of our boyhood recollections, don’t let them throw me overboard.” “Now you are laughing at me,” Monty said a trifle sulkily. “What do you want me to do?” Denby demanded. “Put those pearls in some other place,” he returned stubbornly. Denby made a pass or two in the air as conjurers do when they perform their marvels. “It’s done,” he cried. “From what part of my anatomy or yours shall I produce them?” “There you go,” Monty exclaimed helplessly, “you won’t be serious. I’m getting all on the jump.”