"No, sir. It bane young feller."
"Show him in."
The visitor entered, and Carroll found himself gazing into the level eyes of a slightly disheveled and obviously excited young man of about twenty-eight years of age. The man was slight of stature, but every nervous gesture bespoke wiriness.
"Are you Mr. Carroll?"
"Yes."
"I'm Gresham—Garrison Gresham."
"A-a-ah! Won't you be seated!"
"Yes. I came to have a talk with you."
Carroll seated himself opposite his caller. Then he nodded.
"You came to see me?"