Mr. Daniels smiled sweetly.
“Oddly enough,” he said, “I do know the name. If you had asked me to find a man who did not know the name, you might have given me more difficulty.” His smile remained upon his full lips, and he held his head back somewhat, examining Mr. Petre in the fashion a humorous diplomat might use if he were asked by a casual stranger to talk upon secrets of State.
“You have never seen him?” said Mr. Petre.
It was a foolish question; for after all, if Mr. Daniels had already recognized his guest, Mr. Daniels would have greeted him, and perhaps he might even have remembered Mr. Daniels. But perhaps Mr. Daniels had seen him; perhaps Mr. Daniels did know him. Mr. Daniels had a mysterious smile upon him. The whole thing was very perplexing.
“No,” said Mr. Daniels slowly. “No. I have never seen Mr. Petre. Nor has any one that I know of,” he added, gazing up blankly at the ceiling. “Nor,” he continued emphatically, after a pause, and looking Mr. Petre full in the eyes, “nor are you likely to come across any one who has; not easily!”
“Exactly,” said Mr. Petre. “Precisely.... Could you ... my dear Mr. Daniels”—and here he leaned forward—“I am prepared to pay well; to pay largely. You have but to name your figure. Now, do we understand each other? Can you not discover for me any of the leading facts with regard to....”
But Mr. Daniels interrupted him, putting his hand firmly down upon the table and still looking Mr. Petre in the face, only rather more sternly.
“I do not know who you are, sir,” he said. “You have not given me your name, and no doubt you have your own good reasons for not doing so. But I can tell you this—and it will save you a good deal of trouble. It is not worth my while—it is not worth anybody’s while—to hunt that particular game. Do you understand?”
Mr. Petre understood about as much as if it had been Choctaw, but he looked wise, nodded, and said:
“Yes! yes! I understand.”