“Yes, you are, Waldmere,” Nick interrupted, smiling and speaking in his customary tones. “There is no mistake. I told you, you know, that I was going at this case like a bull at a gate.”
Waldmere’s face lighted wondrously.
“Oh, by Jove!” he cried, hand extended. “You are——”
“The man you expect,” Nick interposed, more seriously. “Don’t be surprised at seeing me thus disguised. My face is very well known to the denizens of the underworld, and I frequently must get in my work under cover.”
“You are jolly well covered, sir, as to that,” Waldmere replied, smiling significantly. “I’d never know you. I’d take you for some blooming banker, or——”
“That is precisely what I aimed at,” Nick replied. “But we have no time to waste. You have heard nothing from your wife, of course?”
“Not a word, or——”
“Or you would have advised me, certainly,” Nick cut in again. “We will get right at this matter, then. Sit down while I give you a few instructions.”
Lord Waldmere complied, all attention.
Half an hour later, or about quarter past nine, a taxicab stopped in front of the quarters of the Imperial Loan Company, which Nick and his companion entered, or that part of the establishment open to its patrons.