It was nearing ten and he was debating within himself whether he should go to bed or test his will by a visit to a café where he knew some friends of his would be, when he heard the street door slam and looked over his shoulder. It could only be Sault or—
The door opened and Jan Steppe came in, dusting the snow from the sleeve of his coat. It was a handsome coat, deeply collared in astrachan and its lining was sealskin, as Mr. Moropulos did not fail to observe.
"Alone, huh?" said Steppe. He glanced at the barley water by the Greek's side and grinned sardonically. "That's the stuff, not a headache in a bucketful!"
"Nor a cheerful thought," said Moropulos. "What brings you this way, Steppe?"
"I want to put some things in the safe."
Sault's invention stood on a wooden frame behind a screen.
"Have to be careful about this word—give me some more light," said Steppe at the dial.
Moropulos rose wearily and turned a switch.
"That's better—huh. Got it!"
The door swung open and, taking a small package from his pocket, the big man tossed it in.