“Wait here,” said Leighton.  “I’m going to answer this.”

He hurried away, and Lewis, feeling unaccountably tired, sat down on a divan.  Nelton remained on guard beside the bags, repulsing the attacks of too anxious bell-boys.  To him came a large, heavy-faced person, pensively plying a toothpick.

“Say, young feller,” he said, “how much do you get?”

Nelton stared, dumfounded, at the stranger.

“How much do I get?” he stammered.

“Yep, just that,” said the stranger.  “What’s your pay?”

Helton’s face turned a brick red.  He glared steadily into the stranger’s eyes, but said nothing.

“Well, well, never mind the figure if you’re ashamed of it,” said the stranger, calmly.  “This is my offer.  If you’ll shake your boss and come to me, I’ll double your pay every year so long as you stick to that ‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir,’ talk and manner.  What do you say?  Is it a deal?”

“What do I s’y?” repeated Nelton, licking his lips.  Lewis, grinning on the lounge, was eavesdropping with all his ears.

“H—­m—­m,” said the stranger, “double your pay every year if you keep it up.”

“I s’y this,” said Nelton, a slight tremble in his voice, “I’ve been serving gentlemen so long that I don’t think we’d hit it off together, thank you.”

The stranger’s shrewd eyes twinkled, but he was otherwise unmoved.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he mumbled, still plying his toothpick.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re not a worm.”  He drew a large business card from his pocket and held it out.  “Come to me if you ever want a man’s job.”

Nelton took the card and held it out as though he had been petrified in the act.  His bulging eyes watched the stranger as he sauntered leisurely back to his seat, then they turned to Lewis.

“What do you think of that?” they asked.

Lewis held out his hand for the card and glanced at the name.

“Nelton,” he said, “you’ve made a mistake.  Better go over and tell the old boy you’ve reconsidered his proposition.  I’ll fix it up with dad.  You’ll be able to retire in three years.”

“Master Lewis,” said Nelton, gravely, “there’s lots of people besides you and the governor that thinks we serving-men says ’Yes, sir, thank you, sir,’ to any one for the syke of a guinea a week and keep.  Now you and the stout party eating the toothpick over yonder knows better.”

CHAPTER L

On the following day, while Leighton and Lewis were sorting out their things and Nelton was packing, Leighton said: 

“Nelton, you’d better go back to London with Mr. Lewis.”

“Beg your pardon, sir,” said Nelton from the depths of a trunk, “but I’d like to go with you, sir.”

“Where to?” asked Leighton, surprised.  “Africa?”

“Yes, sir, Africa, sir.”

Leighton paused for a moment before he said: