It was not so easy to impart a similar confidence into the breast ofColonel Dickinson, with whom Sir Richard dined that night tete-a-tete.Dickinson was inclined to think that Sir Richard ad been "had."
"You've paid a ridiculous fee," he argued, "and all that you have inreturn is the fellow's promise to see you through. It isn't like you topart with money so easily, Richard. Did he hypnotise you?"
"I don't think so," Sir Richard answered. "I wasn't conscious of it."
"What sort of a fellow is he?" Dickinson asked.
Sir Richard looked reflectively into his glass.
"He's a vulgar sort of little Johnny," he said. "Looks as though he werealways dressed in new clothes and couldn't get used to them."
Three men entered the room. Two remained in the background. John Dorycame forward towards the table.
"Sir Richard Dyson," he said, gravely, "I have come upon an unpleasanterrand."
"Go on," Sir Richard said, fingering something hard inside pocket of hiscoat.
"I have a warrant for your arrest," Dory continued, "in connection withthe disappearance of Job Masters on Saturday, the 10th of November last.I will read the terms of the warrant, if you choose. It is my duty towarn you that anything you may now say can be used in evidence againstyou. This gentleman, I believe, is Colonel Dickinson?"
"That is my name, sir," Dickinson answered, with unexpected fortitude.
"I regret to say," the detective continued, "that I have also a warrantfor your arrest in connection with the same matter."
Sir Richard had hold of the butt end of his revolver then. Like grislyphantoms, the thoughts chased one another through his brain. Should heshoot and end it--pass into black nothingness--escape disgrace, but dielike a rat in a corner? His finger was upon the trigger. Then suddenlyhis heart gave a great leap. He raised his head as though listening.Something flashed in his eyes--something that was almost like hope.There was no mistaking that voice which he had heard in the hall! Hemade a great rally.
"I can only conclude," he said, turning to the detective, "that you havemade some absurd blunder. If you really possess the warrants you speakof, however, Colonel Dickinson and I will accompany you wherever youchoose."
Then the door opened and Peter Ruff walked in, followed by Job Masters,whose head was still bandaged, and who seemed to have lost a littleflesh and a lot of colour. Peter Ruff looked round apologetically. Heseemed surprised not to find Sir Richard Dyson and Colonel Dickinsonalone. He seemed more than ever surprised to recognize Dory.
"I trust," he said smoothly, "that our visit is not inopportune. SirRichard Dyson, I believe?" he continued, bowing--"my friend, Mr. Mastershere, has consulted me as to the loss of a betting book, and we venturedto call to ask you, sir, if by any chance on his recent visit to yourhouse--"
"God in Heaven, it's Masters!" Dyson exclaimed. "It's Job Masters!"
"That's me, sir," Masters admitted. "Mr. Ruff thought you might be ableto help me find that book."
Sir Richard swayed upon his feet. Then the blood rushed once morethrough his veins.
"Your book's here in my cabinet, safe enough," he said. "You left ithere after our luncheon that day. Where on earth have you been to, man?"he continued. "We want some money from you over Myopia."
"I'll pay all right, sir," Masters answered. "Fact is, after ourluncheon party I'm afraid I got a bit fuddled. I don't seem to remembermuch."
He sat down a little heavily. Peter Ruff hastened to the table and tookup a glass.
"You will excuse me if I give him a little brandy, won't you, sir?"he said. "He's really not quite fit for getting about yet, but he wasworrying about his book."
"Give him all the brandy he can drink," Sir Richard answered.
The detective's face had been a study. He knew Masters well enough bysight--there was no doubt about his identity! His teeth came togetherwith an angry little click. He had made a mistake! It was a thing whichwould be remembered against him forever! It was as bad as his failure toarrest that young man at Daisy Villa.
"Your visit, Masters," Sir Richard said, with a curious smile at thecorners of his lips, "is, in some respects, a little opportune. Aboutthat little matter we were speaking of," he continued, turning towardsthe detective.
"We have only to offer you our apologies, Sir Richard," Dory answered.
Then he crossed the room and confronted Peter Ruff.
"Do I understand, sir, that your name is Ruff--Peter Ruff?" he asked.
"That is my name, sir," Peter Ruff admitted, pleasantly "Yours Ibelieve, is Dory. We are likely to come across one another now and then,I suppose. Glad to know you."
The detective stood quite still, and there was no geniality in his face.
"I wonder--have we ever met before?" he asked, without removing his eyesfrom the other's face. Peter Ruff smiled.
"Not professionally, at any rate," he answered. "I know that ScotlandYard you don't think much of us small fry, but we find out thingssometimes!"
"Why didn't you contradict all those rumours as to his disappearance?"the detective asked, pointing to where Job Masters was contentedlysipping his brandy and water.
"I was acting for my client, and in my own interests," replied Peter."It was surely no part of my duty to save you gentlemen at Scotland Yardfrom hunting up mare's nests!"
John Dory went out, followed by his men. Sir Richard took Peter Ruff bythe arm, and, leading him to the sideboard, mixed him a drink.
"Peter Ruff," he said, "you're a clever scoundrel, but you've earnedyour five hundred guineas. Hang it, you're welcome to them! Is thereanything else I can do for you?"
Peter Ruff raised his glass and set it down again. Once more he eyedwith admiration his client's well-turned out figure.
"You might give me a letter to your tailors, Sir Richard," he begged.
Sir Richard laughed outright--it was some time since he had laughed!
"You shall have it, Peter Ruff," he declared, raising his glass--"andhere's to you!"