Armitage put down his cigar and bent toward Claiborne, speaking with quiet directness.

“Captain Claiborne, I was introduced to you at Geneva by Mr. Singleton.  You may have observed me several times previously at Venice, Borne, Florence, Paris, Berlin.  I certainly saw you!  I shall not deny that I intentionally followed you, nor”—­John Armitage smiled, then grew grave again—­“can I make any adequate apology for doing so.”

Claiborne looked at Armitage wonderingly.  The man’s attitude and tone were wholly serious and compelled respect.  Claiborne nodded and threw away his cigar that he might give his whole attention to what Armitage might have to say.

“A man does not like to have his sister forming the acquaintances of persons who are not properly vouched for.  Except for Singleton you know nothing of me; and Singleton knows very little of me, indeed.”

Claiborne nodded.  He felt the color creeping into his cheeks consciously as Armitage touched upon this matter.

“I speak to you as I do because it is your right to know who and what I am, for I am not on the King Edward by accident but by intention, and I am going to Washington because your sister lives there.”

Claiborne smiled in spite of himself.

“But, my dear sir, this is most extraordinary!  I don’t know that I care to hear any more; by listening I seem to be encouraging you to follow us—­it’s altogether too unusual.  It’s almost preposterous!”

And Dick Claiborne frowned severely; but Armitage still met his eyes gravely.

“It’s only decent for a man to give his references when it’s natural for them to be required.  I was educated at Trinity College, Toronto.  I spent a year at the Harvard Law School.  And I am not a beggar utterly.  I own a ranch in Montana that actually pays and a thousand acres of the best wheat land in Nebraska.  At the Bronx Loan and Trust Company in New York I have securities to a considerable amount,—­I am perfectly willing that any one who is at all interested should inquire of the Trust Company officers as to my standing with them.  If I were asked to state my occupation I should have to say that I am a cattle herder—­what you call a cowboy.  I can make my living in the practice of the business almost anywhere from New Mexico north to the Canadian line.  I flatter myself that I am pretty good at it,” and John Armitage smiled and took a cigarette from a box on the table and lighted it.

Dick Claiborne was greatly interested in what Armitage had said, and he struggled between an inclination to encourage further confidence and a feeling that he should, for Shirley’s sake, make it clear to this young-stranger that it was of no consequence to any member of the Claiborne family who he was or what might be the extent of his lands or the unimpeachable character of his investments.  But it was not so easy to turn aside a fellow who was so big of frame and apparently so sane and so steady of purpose as