He turned pretty nearly everything upside down, then started on the desk.  Suddenly he paused.  There was a paper.  He read it, then with an air of extreme elation shoved it into his pocket.

As he was going out he stopped beside the valet, removed the handkerchief from his face and bound him with a cord from the portieres.  Then, still immaculate in spite of his encounter, he descended in the elevator, reentered a waiting car and drove off.

Quite evidently, however, he wanted to cover his tracks for he had not gone a half dozen blocks before he stopped, paid and tipped the driver generously, and disappeared into the theatre crowd.

Back again in the Prince Henry, whither the fussy little old man made his way as quickly as he could through a side street, he went quietly up to his room.

His door was now locked.  He did not have to deny himself to visitors, for he had none.  Still, his room was cluttered by a vast amount of paraphernalia and he was seated before a table deep in work.

First of all he tied a handkerchief over his nose and mouth.  Then he took up a cartridge from the table and carefully extracted the bullet.  Into the space occupied by the bullet he poured a white powder and added a wad of paper, like a blank cartridge, placing the cartridge in the chamber of a revolver and repeating the operation until he had it fully loaded.  It was his own invention of an asphyxiating bullet.

Perhaps half an hour later, the old gentleman, his room cleaned up and his immaculate appearance restored, sauntered forth from the hotel down the street like a veritable Turveydrop, to show himself.

. . . . . . .

Elaine seemed quite impressed with our new friend, Del Mar, as we made our way to the library, though I am not sure but that it was a pose on her part.  At any rate he seemed quite eager to help us.

“What do you suppose has become of Mr. Kennedy?” asked Elaine.

Del Mar looked at her earnestly.  “I should be glad to search for him,” he returned quickly.  “He was the greatest man in our profession.  But first I must execute the commission of the Secret Service.  We must find his torpedo model before it falls into foreign hands.”

We talked for a few moments, then Del Mar with a glance at his watch excused himself.  We accompanied him to the door, for he was indeed a charming man.  I felt that, if in fact he were assigned to the case, I ought to know him better.

“If you’re going down-town,” I ventured, “I might accompany you part of the way.”

“Delighted,” agreed Del Mar.

Elaine gave him her hand and he took it in such a deferential way that one could not help liking him.  Elaine was much impressed.

As Del Mar and I walked down the avenue, he kept up a running fire of conversation until at last we came near the La Coste.

“Charmed to have met you, Mr. Jameson,” he said, pausing.  “We shall see a great deal of each other I hope.”