It was two days later, when Alton returned to his office in a somewhat uncertain temper.  He had called at Forel’s house the previous evening, and been informed that Mrs. Forel was not at home, though the blaze of lights and music made it evident that she was entertaining a good many guests.  He had also waited a considerable time for a banker who had been apparently willing to make him certain advances a few days earlier, and when he came to complete the transaction, raised wholly unexpected difficulties.  Afterwards he called upon a dealer in tools and sawmill machinery, who, after professing his willingness to deal with him on usual easy terms, demanded a cheque with the order.  Alton fancied he recognized the hand of Hallam in this, but there was also something else which troubled him.  Some of the men he had business with had been a trifle abrupt in their greetings, and others smiled sardonically when they saw him.

As he strode down the corridor the keeper of the building signed to him.  “There was a young man here asking for you,” he said.  “Told me he was Mr. Townshead, and he’d be back again.”

Alton had scarcely reopened his office when a produce broker he had dealings with came in.  “I’ve worked off the first two car-loads, and you can send some more along,” he said.  “Now, it’s not quite my business, but if you’ll not stand out about the usual commission I can put you on to a man who wants a hundred fat cattle.”

“It’s a deal,” said Alton, glancing thoughtfully at his visitor, whom he considered an honest man.  “Now I think you know a good deal about all that goes on in this city?”

“Oh, yes,” said the other man, “I have to.  Glad to be of any use to you I can.”

“Well,” said Alton, “I’ve noticed men smiling at me kind of curiously, and I want to know right off what’s the meaning of it.  There’s nothing especially humorous about me.”

“You don’t know?” and his visitor appeared to reflect when Alton shook his head.

“Then to put it straight, there are folks who would not believe you.  No, stop a little, I mentioned nothing about myself.  Have you done anything lately, that might have hurt the susceptibilities of Mr. Cartier?”

Alton laughed grimly.  “Yes,” he said, “I hope so.  I hove him out of this place one night and he fell downstairs.”

“Well,” said the other man, smiling, “that accounts for a good deal.  Do you happen to be on good terms with Mr. Hallam?  Cartier is.”

“No,” said Alton dryly, “I don’t.  When Mr. Hallam and I feel at peace one of us will be dead.”

“Now, this thing is getting a little more clear to me.  I wasn’t willing to believe all I heard, anyway.”

“That,” said Alton, “does not concern me.  The question is what did you hear?”

The other man appeared embarrassed and sat silent a space.  “I think it’s only right that you should know,” he said.  “Well—­according to Cartier—­there was a lady here when he came in close on midnight, and he gave folks the impression that she stayed here altogether.  That wouldn’t possibly have counted for so much, but it also got about that she made use of her place to give you information that was worth a good deal about the business of Hallam and the folks she worked for.”