“He might.  I really don’t know.”

“I see.  Well, I guess I’d better buy a car, a slap-up one, dress as a chauffeur and hang about outside.  Then if Boris comes, you could make some kind of signal, and I’d trail him.  How’s that?”

“Splendid, but he mightn’t come for weeks.”

“We’ll have to chance that.  I’m glad you like the plan.”  He rose.

“Where are you going?”

“To buy the car, of course,” replied Julius, surprised.  “What make do you like?  I guess you’ll do some riding in it before we’ve finished.”

“Oh,” said Tuppence faintly, “I like Rolls-Royces, but——­”

“Sure,” agreed Julius.  “What you say goes.  I’ll get one.”

“But you can’t at once,” cried Tuppence.  “People wait ages sometimes.”

“Little Julius doesn’t,” affirmed Mr. Hersheimmer.  “Don’t you worry any.  I’ll be round in the car in half an hour.”

Tuppence got up.

“You’re awfully good, Julius.  But I can’t help feeling that it’s rather a forlorn hope.  I’m really pinning my faith to Mr. Carter.”

“Then I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Just an idea of mine.”

“Oh; but he must do something.  There’s no one else.  By the way, I forgot to tell you of a queer thing that happened this morning.”

And she narrated her encounter with Sir James Peel Edgerton.  Julius was interested.

“What did the guy mean, do you think?” he asked.

“I don’t quite know,” said Tuppence meditatively.  “But I think that, in an ambiguous, legal, without prejudishish lawyer’s way, he was trying to warn me.”

“Why should he?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence.  “But he looked kind, and simply awfully clever.  I wouldn’t mind going to him and telling him everything.”

Somewhat to her surprise, Julius negatived the idea sharply.

“See here,” he said, “we don’t want any lawyers mixed up in this.  That guy couldn’t help us any.”

“Well, I believe he could,” reiterated Tuppence obstinately.

“Don’t you think it.  So long.  I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Thirty-five minutes had elapsed when Julius returned.  He took Tuppence by the arm, and walked her to the window.

“There she is.”

“Oh!” said Tuppence with a note of reverence in her voice, as she gazed down at the enormous car.

“She’s some pace-maker, I can tell you,” said Julius complacently.

“How did you get it?” gasped Tuppence.

“She was just being sent home to some bigwig.”

“Well?”

“I went round to his house,” said Julius.  “I said that I reckoned a car like that was worth every penny of twenty thousand dollars.  Then I told him that it was worth just about fifty thousand dollars to me if he’d get out.”

“Well?” said Tuppence, intoxicated.

“Well,” returned Julius, “he got out, that’s all.”