"Yes," said Sturgis, deliberately; "I was about to seek an interview with you. Can you spare a few minutes?"
"Who is it that asks for the interview?" inquired Murdock, with quiet sarcasm. "Is it Mr. Sturgis, gentleman, Mr. Sturgis, reporter, or——"
Sturgis met a cold gleam from Murdock's inscrutable eyes.
"Or Mr. Sturgis, the famous detective?" continued the chemist with an imperceptible sneer.
"I represent the Tempest," replied the reporter quietly.
Murdock glanced carelessly up and down the street. There was no one in sight.
"Oh! very well," he said, taking out his latch-key and leading the way to the house; "come into my study and let me hear what I can do for the Tempest."
On entering the house, Murdock motioned Sturgis to the door leading from the hall into the drawing-room.
"If you will step into the parlor for a few minutes, I shall be with you directly," said he.
Sturgis nodded acquiescence, and, while Murdock walked toward his study, which was at the extreme rear of the hall, the reporter opened the drawing-room door. He did not open it very wide, however, neither did he enter; for although the room was rather dark, his quick eye caught a passing glimpse of a feminine head cosily nestled upon a distinctly masculine shoulder, the owner of which had his back turned to him. Bachelor cynic though he was, Sturgis had not the heart to interrupt so interesting a situation; and, as the couple were so absorbed that they had not noticed the intrusion upon their tête-à-tête, he discreetly retreated and softly closed the door.