"And what are you doing here?" said Mr. Morton.
"Just taking a bite like yourself," said the other. "Friday—worse luck."
Laurie was conscious of a touch of interest. This man was a Catholic, then, he supposed.
"Oh, by the way," said Mr. Morton, "have you—er—" and he indicated Laurie. "No...? Baxter, let me introduce Mr. Cathcart."
For a moment the name meant nothing to Laurie; then he remembered; but his rising suspicions were quelled instantly by his friend's next remark.
"By the way, Cathcart, we were talking of you a week or two ago."
"Indeed! I am flattered," said the old man perkily. Yes, "perky" was the word, thought Laurie.
"Mr. Baxter here is interested in Spiritualism—rump steak, waiter, and pint of bitter—and I told him you were the man for him."
Laurie interiorly drew in his horns.
"A—er—an experimenter?" asked the old man, with courteous interest, his eyes giving a quick gleam beneath his glasses.