It’s near closin’ time when Old Hickory opens the door an inch or two, throws a scouty glance around, and beckons me mysterious to come in.  Rupert is still there and still alive.  In fact, he’s chokin’ over one of Mr. Ellins’ fat black cigars, but otherwise lookin’ fairly satisfied with himself.

“Young man,” says Old Hickory, “I understand that you have heard some of Captain Killam’s story.”

“Eh?” says I, careless like.  “Oh, yes; I believe he did feed a little of that tale to me, but—­”

“You will kindly forget to mention it about the office,” he cuts in.

“Yes, sir,” says I.  “That’ll be the easiest thing I do.  At the time it sounded mighty—­”

“Never mind how it sounded to you,” says he.  “Your enthusiasms are easily aroused.  Mine kindle somewhat more slowly, but when—­ Well, no need to discuss that, either.  What I want you to do is to take Captain Killam to some quiet little hotel—­the Tillington, for instance—­and engage a comfortable room for him; a room and bath, perhaps.”

“Ye-es, sir,” I gasps out.

“In the morning,” he goes on, “you will call for the Captain about nine o’clock.  If he has with him at that time certain odd pieces of antique jewelry, you may report over the ’phone to me and I will tell you what to do next.”

I expect I was gawpin’ some, and starin’ from one to the other of ’em, for Mr. Ellins scowls and clears his throat menacin’.

“Well?” he growls.

“I was just lettin’ it sink in, sir,” says I.

“Humph!” he snorts.  “If it will help the process any, I may say that I am considering the possibility of going on a cruise South with Captain Killam—­for my health.”

At which Old Hickory drops his left eyelid and indulges in what passes with him for a chuckle.

That’s my cue to grin knowin’, after which I gets my hat and starts off with Rupert.  We’d only got into the corridor when Old Hickory calls me hack, wavin’ a twenty.

“Pay for two days in advance,” says he, and then adds in a whisper:  “Keep close track of him.  See that he doesn’t get away, or talk too much.”

“Yes, sir,” says I.  “Gag and bind, if necessary.”

But there don’t seem to be much need of even warnin’ Rupert.  He hardly opens his mouth on the way up to the hotel, but trails along silent, his eyes fixed starey, like he was thinkin’ deep.

“Well,” says I, after a bell-hop had shown us into one of the Tillington’s air-shaft rooms and gone for ten cents’ worth of ice water, “it looks like you had the Big Boss almost buffaloed with that pirate tale of yours.”

Rupert don’t enthuse much at that.

“As a cautious business man,” says he, “I suppose Mr. Ellins is quite right in moving slowly.  He wants to see the jewelry, and he wishes time to investigate.  Still, it seems to me that my story ought to speak for itself.”

“That’s the line,” says I.  “Stick to that.  But I wouldn’t chatter about it to strangers.”