'<i>Good</i> evening, all!' he saluted them blandly
"It might be Brentwick," said that gentleman placidly.
"Brentwick, eh? Well, I like a man of spirit. But permit me to advise you—"
"Gladly," nodded Brentwick.
"Eh?... Don't come a second time between father and daughter; another man might not be as patient as I, Mister Brentwick. There's a law in the land, if you don't happen to know it."
"I congratulate you on your success in evading it," observed Brentwick, undisturbed. "And it was considerate of you not to employ it in this instance." Then, with a sharp change of tone, "Come, sir!" he demanded. "You have unwarrantably intruded in this room, which I have engaged for my private use. Get through with your business and be off with you."
"All in my good time, my antediluvian friend. When I've wound up my business here I'll go—not before. But, just to oblige you, we'll get down to it.... Kirkwood, you have a revolver of mine. Be good enough to return it."
"I have it here,—under the table," interrupted Brentwick suavely. "Shall I hand it to you?"
"By the muzzle, if you please. Be very careful; this one's loaded, too—apt to explode any minute."
To Kirkwood's intense disgust Brentwick quietly slipped one hand beneath the table and, placing the revolver on its top, delicately with his finger-tips shoved it toward the farther edge. With a grunt of approval, Calendar swept the weapon up and into his pocket.