"Is he, by any chance, a Hungarian?"
"Count Vassilan is a Hungarian prince. But the nationality of either of us is unimportant. Are you connected with the New York police?"
"Yes," said Steingall. He answered the Earl, but kept that microscopic eye of his fixed on the Count.
"Very well, then. I repeat that John D. Curtis must be found and arrested—to-night."
"Why?"
"Because he is a dangerous adventurer. I——"
"That's a lie, first sizz out of the syphon," broke in another voice. "I have the honor to be a friend of John D. Curtis. My name is Howard Devar, and I'll stand for John D. all the time against the noble Earl and any God's quantity of blue-blooded, full-blooded Hungarians."
Each member of the animated group was gazing at Devar's boyish, self-possessed, well-chiseled face, when another interruption held them agog. A stout, middle-aged man, followed by a stouter matron, bustled into the circle. The newcomers were just as clearly Americans as the Earl was English, and the man cried angrily:
"Who says that John D. Curtis is a tough? I'm his uncle."
"And I'm his aunt," chimed in the lady.