"What is it, old man? And why the terrifically serious look on your face?"
Rodrigo forced a smile. "I want you to stay away from the apartment until three-thirty next Saturday afternoon," he said. "At that time I want you to meet me there, and probably I'll have something very interesting to show you?"
"But my birthday isn't until next month, Rodrigo?" John bantered. "Did you go out and buy that Gainsborough original I fancied so much—or what?"
"Please don't ask any questions, John. And believe that I'm deadly serious. Three-thirty. Will you be there?"
"Why, of course—if you say so."
During the rest of the week, Rodrigo was like a man who has had the date of his electrocution set. He could not work, eat, nor sleep. John remarked about it. Mary Drake regarded him anxiously from behind his back.
At noon the following Saturday, Rodrigo heard John leaving his office and hastened to stop him. He had not reminded John of his engagement of the afternoon, but now he said,
"You haven't forgotten about coming to the apartment at three-thirty, have you, John!"
"Oh, I'll be there. You're so darned mysterious about it that you've aroused my curiosity."
Rodrigo felt a grim satisfaction. He did not purpose to have his electrocution bungled by the absence of the man who was to turn on the electricity.