"What's the matter?" queried Hough, when he saw the direction they were taking. "Isn't the club grill-room good enough for you?"
Sidwell pursued his way unmoved. "I said I wished to talk with you."
"I guess I must be dense," Hough answered gayly. "I certainly never saw any house rules that forbid a man to speak."
Sidwell looked at his companion with a whimsical expression. "The trouble isn't with the house rules but with you. A fellow might as well try to monopolize the wheat-pit on the board of trade as to keep you alone here. You're too confoundedly popular, Hough! You draw people as the proverbial molasses-barrel attracts flies."
The big man laughed. "Your compliment, if that's what it was, is a bit involved, but I suppose it'll have to do. Lead on!"
Sidwell sought out a modest little café in a side street and selected a secluded booth.
"What'll you have?" he asked, as the waiter appeared.
Hough's blue eyes twinkled. "Are you with me, whatever I order?"
"Club sandwiches and a couple of bottles of beer," Hough concluded.