"The matter is quite simple," Mr. Weatherley interrupted, sharply. "To put it plainly, if I am missing at any time, if anything should happen to me, or if I should disappear, go to that safe, take out the letters, open your own and deliver the other. That is all you have to do."
"Quite so, sir," Arnold replied. "I understand perfectly. I see that there is none for Mrs. Weatherley. Would you wish any message to be sent to her?"
Mr. Weatherley was silent for a moment. A boy passed along the pavement with a bundle of evening papers. Mr. Weatherley tapped at the window.
"Hurry out and get me a Star, Chetwode," he ordered.
Arnold obeyed him and returned a few moments later with a paper in his hand. Mr. Weatherley spread out the damp sheet under the electric light. He studied it for a few moments intently, and then folded it up.
"It will not be necessary for you, Chetwode," he said, "to communicate with my wife specially."
The accidental arrangement of his employer's coat and hat upon the rack suddenly struck Arnold.
"Why, I don't believe that you have been out to lunch, sir!" he exclaimed.
Mr. Weatherley looked as though the idea were a new one to him.
"To tell you the truth," he said, "I completely forgot. Help me on with my coat, Chetwode. There is nothing more to be done to-day. I will call and get some tea somewhere on my way home."