SOLOMON COMES BACK
At nine o'clock that night the colonel, in immaculate evening-dress, sat playing double-dummy bridge with his two companions. In the light of the big shaded lamp overhead there was something particularly peaceful and innocent in their occupation. No word was spoken save of the game.
It was a quarter to nine, noted the colonel, looking at the little French clock on the mantelpiece. He rose, walked to the window and looked out. It was a stormy night and the wind was howling down the street, sending the rain in noisy splashes against the window panes. He grumbled his satisfaction and returned to the table.
"Did you see the paper?" asked Pinto presently.
"I saw the paper," said the colonel, not looking up from his hand. "I make a point of reading the newspapers."
"You see they've made a feature of——"
"Mention no names," said the colonel. "I know they've made a feature about it. So much the better. Everything depends——"
It was as he spoke that Solomon White came into the room. Boundary knew it was he before the door handle turned, before the hum of voices in the hall outside had ceased, but it was with a great pretence of surprise that he looked up.
"Why, if it isn't Solomon White!" he said.
The man was haggard and sick-looking. He had evidently dressed in a hurry, for his cravat was ill-tied and the collar gaped. He strode slowly up to the table and Boundary's manservant, with a little grin, closed the door.