"I beg your pardon, sir?"
Vance smiled disarmingly.
"Merely a quotation from Gray. Poetry appeals to me in certain moods, don't y' know. . . . Do you, by any chance, know Colonel Ostrander?"
Pfyfe looked at him coldly, but only a vacuous countenance met his gaze.
"I am acquainted with the gentleman," he replied haughtily.
"Was Colonel Ostrander present at this delightful little social affair of yours?" Vance's tone was artlessly innocent.
"Now that you mention it, I believe he was," admitted Pfyfe, and lifted his eyebrows inquisitively.
But Vance was again staring disinterestedly out of the window.
Markham, annoyed at the interruption, attempted to re-establish the conversation on a more amiable and practical basis. But Pfyfe, though loquacious, had little more information to give. He insisted constantly on bringing the talk back to Captain Leacock, and, despite his eloquent protestations, it was obvious he attached more importance to the threat than he chose to admit. Markham questioned him for fully an hour, but could learn nothing else of a suggestive nature.
When Pfyfe rose to go Vance turned from his contemplation of the outside world and, bowing affably, let his eyes rest on the other with ingenuous good-nature.
"Now that you are in New York, Mr. Pfyfe, and were so unfortunate as to be unable to arrive earlier,
