"For me?" Mr. Jobling exclaimed anxiously as he ripped the envelope open. And a slow pallor overspread his puffy pink features while he was perusing its contents.
"From Mullins, my managing clerk," he mumbled as he passed the message to Slyne, who looked it over indifferently, and then re-read it aloud in a low but very ominous voice: "'American claimant landed at Genoa yesterday. Now on way to London. Court granted decree in his favour.' Handed in at Chancery Lane, in London,"—he pulled out his watch—"fifty minutes ago."
The page-boy had disappeared. Slyne pushed suddenly past Mr. Jobling and set his back against the door. Captain Dove was approaching the terrified solicitor softly, on tiptoe, his fists clenched, all his tobacco-stained fangs displayed in a grin of fury. One of his long arms shot out just as the door opened behind Slyne's back and a voice announced:
"M. Dubois."
CHAPTER XV
THE LAW—AND THE PROFITS
Sallie saw how Jasper Slyne's face blanched at sight of that very untimely intruder, whose keen eyes seemed to take in the situation there at a glance.
Mr. Jobling had fallen backward into a convenient armchair and, with both hands clapped to his nose, was moaning most piteously. Captain Dove was standing over him, with features inflamed, in a very bellicose posture and glaring at the new-comer, toward whom Slyne had turned inquiringly.
"You're—looking for some one, M. Dubois?" Slyne asked, in a tone of polite surprise, which, Sallie knew, was assumed.