"You can tell him to go to the devil," said Anthony Barraclough.
"Right, I will. I say, if you feel a bit neglected during the night don't worry, there are plenty of us knocking about in the street below and we shan't desert you."
Barraclough smiled grimly.
"You seem a genial sort of ass," he said. "Care for a drink?"
"No, thanks. I must toddle along and make my report." He hesitated.
"But I would like to know what all this is about."
"So would a good many other people," said Barraclough and pressed the third floor button of the electric lift.
CHAPTER 3.
WHICH DEVELOPS AN IDEA.
The meeting of the directors had been arranged to take place at Lord Almont Frayne's house in Park Lane. Nugent Cassis was first to arrive. It was part of his scheme of life to be five minutes early for appointments. He nodded to the man-servant, crossed to the fire and rubbed his thin hands before it.
"I expect his lordship will be down directly," said the servant.