Vantine walked up and down the room again, his eyes on the floor, his brows contracted.
"Lester," he said, at last, "I have a queer feeling that the business which brought this man here in some way concerned the Boule cabinet I was telling you about. Perhaps it belonged to him."
"Hardly," I protested, recalling his shabby appearance.
"At any rate, I remember, as I was looking at his card, that some such thought occurred to me. It was for that reason I told Parks to ask him to wait."
"It's possible, of course," I admitted. "But that wouldn't explain his excitement. And that reminds me," I added, "I haven't sent off that cable."
"Any time to-night will do. It will be delivered in the morning. But you haven't seen the cabinet yet. Come down and look at it."
He led the way down the stair. Parks met us in the lower hall.
"There's a delegation of reporters outside, sir," he said. "They say they've got to see you."
Vantine made a movement of impatience.
"Tell them," he said, "that I positively refuse to see them or to allow my servants to see them. Let them get their information from the police."