He paced the room energetically, changing the aspect of his face withgreat rapidity, as wandering thoughts crowded in upon him and vastpossibilities shook their alluring banners upon the pleasant scene heconjured. Suddenly he pulled himself together, shot out his cuffs, opened and closed all the drawers of his desk as though seekingsomething – he found it where he had left it, hanging on a peg behindthe door, and put it on – and said with great determination andbriskness:

"Stivvins' Wharf, Greenhithe. You will accompany me. Bring yournote-book. It is not necessary to bring a typewriter. I will arrangefor a taxicab. We can do the journey in two hours."

"But where are you going?" asked the startled girl.

"To Stivvins'. I am going to look at this place. There is apossibility that certain things have been overlooked. Never lose anopportunity, dear old miss. We magnates make our fortune by neverignoring the little things."

But still she demurred, being a very sane, intelligent girl, with animagination which produced no more alluring mental picture than a coldand draughty drive, a colder and draughtier and even more depressinginspection of a ruined factory, and such small matters as a lost lunch.

But Bones was out of the room, in the street, had flung himself upon ahesitant taxi-driver, had bullied and cajoled him to take a monstrousand undreamt-of journey for a man who, by his own admission, had onlysufficient petrol to get his taxi home, and when the girl came down shefound Bones, with his arm entwined through the open window of the door, giving explicit instructions as to the point on the river whereStivvins' Wharf was to be found.

II

Bones returned to his office alone. The hour was six-thirty, and hewas a very quiet and thoughtful young man. He almost tiptoed into hisoffice, closed and locked the door behind him, and sat at his desk withhis head in his hands for the greater part of half an hour.

Then he unrolled the plan of the wharf, hoping that his memory had notplayed him false. Happily it had not. On the bottom right-hand cornerMr. Staines had written his address! "Stamford Hotel, Blackfriars."

Bones pulled a telegraph form from his stationery rack and indited anurgent wire.

Mr. Staines, at the moment of receiving that telegram, was sitting at asmall round table in the bar of The Stamford, listening in silence tocertain opinions which were being expressed by his two companions inarms and partners in misfortune, the same opinions relating in a mostdisparaging manner to the genius, the foresight, and the constructiveability of one who in his exuberant moments described himself as HonestJohn.

The explosive gentleman had just concluded a fanciful picture of whatwould happen to Honest John if he came into competition with theaverage Bermondsey child of tender years.

Honest John took the telegram and opened it. He read it and gasped.He stood up and walked to the light, and read it again, then returned, his eyes shining, his face slightly flushed.

"You're clever, ain't you?" he asked. "You're wise – I don't think!

Look at this!"

He handed the telegram to the nearest of his companions, who was thetall, thin, and non-explosive partner, and he in turn passed it withouta word to his more choleric companion.

"You don't mean to say he's going to buy it?"

"That's what it says, doesn't it?" said the triumphant Mr. Staines.

"It's a catch," said the explosive man suspiciously.

"Not on your life," replied the scornful Staines. "Where does thecatch come in? We've done nothing he could catch us for?"

"Let's have a look at that telegram again," said the thin man, and, having read it in a dazed way, remarked: "He'll wait for you at theoffice until nine. Well, Jack, nip up and fix that deal. Take thetransfers with you. Close it and take his cheque. Take anything he'llgive you, and get a special clearance in the morning, and, anyway, thebusiness is straight."

Honest John breathed heavily through his nose and staggered from thebar, and the suspicious glances of the barman were, for once, unjustified, for Mr. Staines was labouring under acute emotions.

He found Bones sitting at his desk, a very silent, taciturn Bones, whogreeted him with a nod.

"Sit down," said Bones. "I'll take that property. Here's my cheque."

With trembling fingers Mr. Staines prepared the transfers. It was hewho scoured the office corridors to discover two agitated char-ladieswho were prepared to witness his signature for a consideration.

He folded the cheque for twenty thousand pounds reverently and put itinto his pocket, and was back again at the Stamford Hotel so quicklythat his companions could not believe their eyes.

"Well, this is the rummiest go I have ever known," said the explosiveman profoundly. "You don't think he expects us to call in the morningand buy it back, do you?"

Staines shook his head.

"I know he doesn't," he said grimly. "In fact, he as good as told methat that business of buying a property back was a fake."

The thin man whistled.

"The devil he did! Then what made him buy it?"

"He's been there. He mentioned he had seen the property," saidStaines. And then, as an idea occurred to them all simultaneously, they looked at one another.

The stout Mr. Sole pulled a big watch from his pocket.

"There's a caretaker at Stivvins', isn't there?" he said. "Let's godown and see what has happened."

Stivvins' Wharf was difficult of approach by night. It lay off themain Woolwich Road, at the back of another block of factories, and toreach its dilapidated entrance gates involved an adventurous marchthrough a number of miniature shell craters. Night, however, wasmerciful in that it hid the desolation which is called Stivvins' fromthe fastidious eye of man. Mr. Sole, who was not aesthetic and by nomeans poetical, admitted that Stivvins' gave him the hump.

It was ten o'clock by the time they had reached the wharf, andhalf-past ten before their hammering on the gate aroused the attentionof the night-watchman – who was also the day-watchman – who occupied whathad been in former days the weigh-house, which he had converted into aweatherproof lodging.

"Hullo!" he said huskily. "I was asleep."

He recognized Mr. Sole, and led the way to his little bunk-house.

"Look here, Tester," said Sole, who had appointed the man, "did a youngswell come down here to-day?"

"He did," said Mr. Tester, "and a young lady. They gave Mr. Staines'sname, and asked to be showed round, and," he added, "I showed 'emround."

"Well, what happened?" asked Staines.

"Well," said the man, "I took 'em in the factory, in the big building, and then this young fellow asked to see the place where the metal waskept."

"What metal?" asked three voices at one and the same time.

"That's what I asked," said Mr. Tester, with satisfaction. "I told 'emStivvins dealt with all kinds of metal, so the gent says: 'What aboutgold?'"

"What about gold?" repeated Mr. Staines thoughtfully. "And what didyou say?"

"Well, as a matter of fact," explained Tester, "I happen to know thisplace, living in the neighbourhood, and I used to work here about eightyears ago, so I took 'em down to the vault."

"To the vault?" said Mr. Staines. "I didn't know there was a vault."

"It's under the main office. You must have seen the place," saidTester. "There's a big steel door with a key in it – at least, therewas a key in it, but this young fellow took it away with him."

Staines gripped his nearest companion in sin, and demanded huskily:

"Did they find anything in – in the vault?"

"Blessed if I know!" said the cheerful Tester, never dreaming that hewas falling very short of the faith which at that moment, and only atthat moment, had been reposed in him. "They just went in. I've neverbeen inside the place myself."

"And you stood outside, like a – a – "

"Blinking image!" said the explosive companion.

"You stood outside like a blinking image, and didn't attempt to go in, and see what they were looking at?" said Mr. Staines heatedly. "Howlong were they there?"

"About ten minutes."

"And then they came out?"

Tester nodded.

"Did they bring anything out with them?"

"Nothing," said Mr. Tester emphatically.

"Did this fellow – what's his name? – look surprised or upset?" persistedthe cross-examining Honest John.

"He was a bit upset, now you come to mention it, agitated like, yes,"said Tester, reviewing the circumstances in a new light. "His 'andwas, so to speak, shaking."

"Merciful Moses!" This pious ejaculation was from Mr. Staines. "Hetook away the key, you say. And what are you supposed to be here for?"asked Mr. Staines violently. "You allow this fellow to come and takeour property away. Where is the place?"

Tester led the way across the littered yard, explaining en route thathe was fed up, and why he was fed up, and what they could do to fillthe vacancy which would undoubtedly occur the next day, and where theycould go to, so far as he was concerned, and so, unlocking one rustylock after another, passed through dark and desolate offices, full ofsqueaks and scampers, down a short flight of stone steps to a mostuncompromising steel door at which they could only gaze.

III

Bones was at his office early the following rooming, but he was notearlier than Mr. Staines, who literally followed him into his officeand slammed down a slip of paper under his astonished and gloomy eye.

"Hey, hey, what's this?" said Bones irritably. "What the dooce isthis, my wicked old fiddle fellow?"

"Your cheque," said Mr. Staines firmly. "And I'll trouble you for thekey of our strong-room."

"The key of your strong-room?" repeated Bones. "Didn't I buy thisproperty?"

"You did and you didn't. To cut a long story short, Mr. Tibbetts, Ihave decided not to sell – in fact, I find that I have done an illegalthing in selling at all."

Bones shrugged his shoulders. Remember that he had slept, orhalf-slept, for some nine hours, and possibly his views had undergone achange. What he would have done is problematical, because at thatmoment the radiant Miss Whitland passed into her office, and Bones'sacute ear heard the snap of her door.

"One moment," he said gruffly, "one moment, old Honesty."

He strode through the door which separated the private from the publicportion of his suite, and Mr. Staines listened. He listened at varyingdistances from the door, and in his last position it would haverequired the most delicate of scientific instruments to measure thedistance between his ear and the keyhole. He heard nothing save thewail of a Bones distraught, and the firm "No's" of a self-possessedfemale.

Then, after a heart-breaking silence Bones strode out, and Mr. Stainesdid a rapid sprint, so that he might be found standing in an attitudeof indifference and thought near the desk. The lips of Bones weretight and compressed. He opened the drawer, pulled out the transfers, tossed them across to Mr. Staines.

"Key," said Bones, chucking it down after the document.

He picked up his cheque and tore it into twenty pieces.

"That's all," said Bones, and Mr. Staines beat a tremulous retreat.

When the man had gone, Bones returned to the girl who was sitting ather table before her typewriter. It was observable that her lips werecompressed too.

"Young Miss Whitland," said Bones, and his voice was hoarser than ever,"never, never in my life will I ever forgive myself!"

"Oh, please, Mr. Tibbetts," said the girl a little wearily, "haven't Itold you that I have forgiven you? And I am sure you had no horridthought in your mind, and that you just acted impulsively."

Bones bowed his head, at once a sign of agreement and a crushed spirit.

"The fact remains, dear old miss," he said brokenly, "that I did kissyou in that beastly old private vault. I don't know what made me doit," he gulped, "but I did it. Believe me, young miss, that spot wassacred. I wanted to buy the building to preserve it for all time, sothat no naughty old foot should tread upon that hallowed ground. Youthink that's nonsense!"

"Mr. Tibbetts."

"Nonsense, I say, romantic and all that sort of rot." Bones threw outhis arms. "I must agree with you. But, believe me, Stivvins' Wharf ishallowed ground, and I deeply regret that you would not let me buy itand turn it over to the jolly old Public Trustee or one of thosejohnnies… You do forgive me?"

She laughed up in his face, and then Bones laughed, and they laughed together.