“Eh?” growls Ham.  “Tell you!  Why, who the devil are you?”

“Nobody much,” says I.  “Maybe you ain’t noticed me in the office, but I’m there.  Private sec. to the president of Mutual Funding.  My desk is beyond Mr. Robert’s, in the corner.”

“Oh, yes,” says Adams; “I remember you now.  And I suppose I may as well tell you as anyone.  For the fact is, I’m about at the end of my string.  I must get some money somewhere.”

“Ye-e-es?” says I, sort of cagey.

“Did Bob send any by you?  Did he?” suddenly asks Adams.

“Some,” says I.

“How much?” he demands.

“A hundred,” says I.

“Bah!” says he.  “Why, that wouldn’t—­ See here; you go back and tell Bob I need a lot more than that—­a couple of thousand, anyway.”

I shakes my head.  “I guess a hundred is about the limit,” says I.

“But great Scott!” says Adams, grippin’ his hands desperate.  “I’ve simply got to—­”

Then he breaks off and stares again towards the door.  Next he steps across the room soft and jerks it open, revealin’ the classy Nivens standin’ there with his head on one side.

“Ha!” snarls Ham.  “Listening, eh?”

“Oh yes, sir,” says Nivens.  “Naturally, sir.”

“Why naturally?” says Adams.

“I’m rather interested, that’s all, sir,” says Nivens.

“Oh, you are, are you?” sneers Ham.  “Come in here.”

He ain’t at all bashful about acceptin’ the invitation, nor our starin’ at him don’t seem to get him a bit fussed.  In fact, he’s about the coolest appearin’ member of our little trio.

Maybe some of that is due to the dead white of his face and the black hair smoothed back so slick.  A cucumbery sort of person, Nivens.  He has sort of a narrow face, taken bow on, but sideways it shows up clean cut and almost distinguished.  Them deep-set black eyes of his give him a kind of mysterious look, too.

“Now,” says Ham Adams, squarin’ off before him with his jaw set rugged, “perhaps you will tell us why you were stretching your ear outside?”

“Wouldn’t it be better, sir, if I explained privately?” suggests Nivens, glancin’ at me.

“Oh, him!” says Adams.  “Never mind him.”

“Very well, sir,” says Nivens.  “I wanted to know if you were able to raise any cash.  I haven’t mentioned it before, but there’s a matter of fifteen months’ wages between us, sir, and—­”

“Yes, yes, I know,” cuts in Ham.  “But yon understand my circumstances.  That will come in time.”

“I’m afraid I shall have to ask for a settlement very soon, sir,” says Nivens.

“Eh?” gasps Adams.  “Why, see here, Nivens; you’ve been with me for five—­six years, isn’t it?”

“Going on seven, sir,” says Nivens.

“And during all that time,” suggests Ham, “I’ve paid you thousands of dollars.”

“I’ve tried to earn it all, sir,” says Nivens.