the house, then up at the windows, but there was nothing out of the
ordinary to be seen. Further down the street we passed three policemen
walking briskly along the pavement in the direction of the house.

"What's the commotion in Grafton Street?" I inquired of my driver as I
paid him off at Brooks's.

"I've no idea, sir," he answered. "Looks as though there was trouble of
some sort." Another fare hailed him, so our conversation ended.

I found Easterton awaiting me in a deserted card-room.

"This may be a serious affair, Berrington," he said in a tone of anxiety
as I seated myself in the opposite corner of the big, leather-covered
settee. "Here five days have gone by, and there isn't a sign of Jack
Osborne, though he had not told anybody that he intended to absent
himself, had not even hinted to anybody that he had any idea of
doing so."

"You say he has not been seen since Gastrell's reception?"

"Not since then--five days ago. The fellows here at the club are getting
quite alarmed about him--they want to advertise in the newspapers for
news of his whereabouts."

"That means publicity, a shoal of inquiries, and maybe a scandal," I
answered thoughtfully. "If Jack has intentionally disappeared for a day
or two and all at once finds himself notorious he will be furious."

"Just what I tell them," Easterton exclaimed; "I wish you would back me