"It is the most generous offer I've ever heard of, Mr. Van Adams. I can't express my thanks. You really mean this?"
"I do. And as an ounce of proof is worth a ton of talk—allow me to introduce you to Mr. Danjuro!"
He turned round as he spoke and I with him. Then I gave a cry of astonishment, which I could not have kept back to save my life.
Standing some yard or so away was a little Japanese gentleman, not much more than five feet high. He wore gold pince-nez, a neat blue lounge suit and brown boots. There was nothing noticeable about him in any way, except an unusually fine cranial development—a massive forehead and a great space between the corners of the dark eyes and the ears.
"Good heavens, how did he get here?" I said.
Van Adams laughed. "I daresay he'll tell you; I don't know," he answered. "I just told him to be here. I wanted to give you an object lesson, in fact. Now, Mr. Danjuro knows all that I know. You can trust him absolutely. He knows what is in front of him, and he knows where to find me when I'm wanted. Now I'll leave you together and say good-afternoon."
He was gone almost before I could thank him.