Bob put the address book back into the drawer. At that moment, the deep tone of the doorbell was heard. Briggs looked up. Bob nodded. The big man went out.
When Briggs returned, he had a puzzled look upon his face. Bob detected it and raised his eyebrows quizzically.
“A man named Vincent,” said Briggs, handing Bob a card. “Comes from South Africa.”
“Is he supposed to know me?”
“No. He was sort of apologetic about disturbing you. He knows a friend of yours in a place called Durban. A diamond dealer named Young—”
“Hm-m-m,” observed Bob. “I know who he means. Those papers in young Galvin’s trunk are coming in handy. Glad I read them.
“Show this fellow in, Briggs. Do it right. Understand?”
The big man nodded as he left the room. He returned with a young man who was well dressed and who wore a pleasant smile. Bob arose to greet the newcomer.
“You will pardon me, Mr. Galvin,” said the stranger. “My name is Harry Vincent. I just arrived in New York. Our mutual friend, Mr. Young, suggested that I call upon you. I live in Durban, you know—”
“Oh, yes,” replied Bob. “How’s everything there? Was Mr. Young in good health when you left?”