"I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Damon, interrogatively.

"I said what a coincidence. I am going there myself."

"Excuse me," interposed Tom, "I don't believe, in the
excitement of the moment, I introduced you gentlemen. Allow
me--Mr. Damon--Mr. Titus."

The presentation over, Mr. Damon went on:

"You see, Tom, I have lately invested considerable money
in a wholesale drug concern. We deal largely in Peruvian
remedies, principally the bark of the cinchona tree, from
which quinine is made. Of late there has been some trouble
over our concession from the Peruvian government, and the
company has decided to send me down there to investigate.

"Of course, as soon as I made up my mind to go I thought
of you. So I came over to see if you would not accompany me.
All went well until I reached your front gate. Then my horse
became frightened by a yellow toy balloon some boy was
blowing up in the street and bolted with me. I suppose if it
had been a red or green balloon the effect would have been
the same. However, here I am, somewhat the worse for wear.
Now Tom, what do you say? Will you go to South America--to
Peru--with me, and help look up this Quinine business?"

Once more Mr. Titus and Tom looked at each other.