"Where's that man Godfrey?" broke in Grady.
"He said he'd be here at noon," I said, and glanced at my watch.
"It's noon now. Were you to meet him here?"
Grady glanced at me suspiciously.
"Don't you know nothing about it?" he asked.
"I only know that Godfrey asked me to be here at noon to-day. What's up?"
"Blamed if I know," said Grady sulkily. "I got word from him that I'd better be here, and I thought maybe he might know something. I'm so dizzy over last night's business that I'm running around in circles this morning. But I won't wait for him. He can't make me do that! Come along, Simmonds."
"Wait a minute," I broke in, as the outer door opened. "Perhaps that's Godfrey, now."
And so it proved. He came in accompanied by a man whom I knew to be
Arthur Shearrow, chief counsel for the Record.
Godfrey nodded all around.
"I think you know Mr. Shearrow," he said, placing on my desk a small leather bag he was carrying. "This is Mr. Lester, Mr. Shearrow," he added, and we shook hands. "The object of this conference, Lester," he concluded, "is to straighten out certain matters connected with the Michaelovitch diamonds—and incidentally to give the Record the biggest scoop it has had for months."