"Oh, about Pen," said Bob. "She's queer. I don't know, Mr. Gordon, I can't tell. She may be, for all I know. She's so clever, I don't know that she hasn't married you, and put you up to coming and asking me questions."
Gordon couldn't help grinning.
"I think you'll be a director of something some day," said he. "I can't make you one now, but if you have a hundred pounds I'll invest it in something for you, my son, that will make your hair curl."
"Like yours?" asked Bob, curiously, and Gordon flinched.
"Well," went on Bob, without waiting for an answer, "I haven't a hundred pounds, but I've an idea how to get it."
"Yes?" said the financier. "What's your idea, Bob?"
"It's a safe and a certain investment, is it?"
"Why, of course," replied Gordon.
"Then I'll tell you what, you lend it me," said Bob, brightly, "and invest it for me."
"Damned if I don't," cried Gordon. "Bob, when you are twenty-one I'll make you a director and ask your advice! And you'll come and tell me if you find out anything about Lady Penelope?"