"Lost—A black leather wallet, containing private papers and a sum of money. A suitable reward will be paid for the return of same, and no questions asked. Apply to W. J. P., Argonaut Club, City."
"Tough luck," said I. "Did you lose much?"
"Quite a sum," replied the Ooley-cow. "Enough to make it an object. In large bills mostly."
"Too bad. The wallet had your cards in it?"
"And some papers of a private nature."
"Have you any idea where you might have dropped it? Or do you think it was stolen?"
"I don't know what to think. I had it last night at the Country Club just before I left. I know I had it then, because I took it out in the lounging room to pay a small bet to Mr. Poindexter—a matter of two dollars. Then I put the wallet back in my inside pocket and came straight here—alone in a closed car. I missed it just before going to bed. I telephoned to the Country Club. No sign of it there. I went to the garage myself. It was not in the car. Of course it may have been there earlier in the evening, but I think my driver is honest, and——"
At this point we were interrupted by a clean-cut looking youngster of perhaps seventeen years.
"Your initials are W. J. P., sir?" he asked politely.
"They are."