He was tall and spare, with a slight stoop--you would have taken him at first glance for a retired diplomat, or a university professor, with his thin, finely cut face and mane of gray hair. He looked to be about fifty-five years of age, but the very pale blue eyes under the shaggy white eyebrows were the eyes of a much younger man.

"I'm waiting to hear the story, Professor," said the man on his left.

He was squat, bull-necked, and blue of chin; and his ready-made evening clothes seemed to cause him considerable discomfort.

The third man signified his readiness to listen by a silent expressive gesture with the hand that held his cigar. This third man was small and perky, his hair muddily gray and in the state tactfully described by barbers as "A little thin on top."

A long, scraggy neck protruded from a dress collar three sizes too large.

"It is quite simple," said the man who had been addressed as "Professor"; and leaned forward.

The other two instinctively drew closer.

He spoke for three quarters of an hour, and the other two listened in an intent silence which was broken only by an occasional staccato query, a request for a repetition, or a demand for more lucid explanation of a point which arose in the recital. The Professor dealt smoothly with each question, speaking in a low, well-modulated voice; and at the end of the forty-five minutes, he knew that the alert brains of the other two had grasped the essential points of his plan and adjudged it for what it was--the scheme of a genius.

"That is the method I propose to adopt," he concluded simply. "If either of you has any criticism to make, you may speak quite freely"

And he leaned back with a slight smile, as though he were convinced that-there could not possibly be any valid criticism.