“Besides,� said Fay, “I guess the fight is over.�
The soldier glanced at the black band on his arm. “You’re an American?� he insisted.
“Well, suppose I am?�
“And you came over here without a uniform?�
“I’ve worn a uniform for five years,� said Fay truthfully.
“What service?�
“The King’s own!�
“Gawan!�
“Surest thing you know. And now, my friend,â€� he added, stepping back, “I’m going to leave you at the Huntington—not ’Untin’don! Some day, when you go back to the States and to Broadway, just drop into the Café Ponsardine and tell the chap at the desk, in front, that you saw Chester Fay. Tell him—you’ll know him by a bald spot, and a scar on his chin—that I’m working for Scotland Yard. He may drop over when you tell him that. He may buy you a drink!â€�
“Ah, say!�