It was now quite two months since the death of Colonel Carr, and all this time Robin had been in London. He had written to Herrick telling him he felt so much better that he would not go abroad. "I have a new idea for a novel," wrote Joyce, "and now that I have the leisure, I intend to throw myself heart and soul into it. I still keep on my flat." Herrick therefore determined that his first visit should be to the little man.

Stephen and the doctor took up their abode in the Guelph Hotel in Jermyn Street. It was the first time the young man had been in London, and the novelty and excitement of town life, did much to dispel the grief he felt for the death of his step-mother. It was not that he regretted her the less, but he was sensible enough to see that it was foolish to weep over an irremediable misfortune. He therefore took Herrick's advice and threw himself with ardour into fitting himself out with a complete ward-robe for the first time in his life. The doctor took him to the best West-End shops, instructed him in the topography of the fashionable locality, and when Stephen was fairly set going, found time to attend to his own business.

He first went to his house in West Kensington, and saw that it was all right. Then he called upon the young practitioner who had nursed his practice while he was away, and made him an offer to sell it. The young doctor who had only lately started in the district was overjoyed at the chance as Jim had got together a fair number of patients. Herrick made the terms of purchase as light as possible, and spread the payment over a considerable time. Dr. Grant asked two days for consideration, as being poor it was necessary he should see his way how to pay the money. At once Jim consented to this, and after finishing this necessary business, he went off to Robin's flat. The arrangement and discussion with Grant had taken up the best part of the afternoon, and it was close upon seven when Herrick found time to see his friend. At first he hesitated, and half made up his mind to put it off until the next day. But as he was in the neighbourhood, he finally decided to go, and sent a wire to Marsh that he would not be home until ten o'clock. He intended to ask Joyce for a meal, making sure that he would be welcome. Yet strange to say, Robin was not so hearty as Herrick expected. Perhaps he had not got over his anger at the desertion of the doctor; but after his last letter Jim could not think that such was the case. In spite of their severance, Herrick still wished to keep an eye on Robin knowing that he was foolish in many ways. Therefore when Joyce showed a disposition not to invite him to stay, Herrick at once determined that he would remain. There was a reason at the back of this confusion, and Herrick in the interests of a weak man, resolved to find out what it might be. Seeing that he was bent on remaining, Robin made the best of what he evidently considered a bad job, and became more of his old self.

"You are not looking so well, as your letter led me to hope Robin," said Herrick, when the two were smoking in the study.

"I am in the best of health," said Robin quickly. "But of course I have been working hard at my book, and that takes it out of a chap."

"Read me some of the chapters," said Herrick, who once had been a kind of literary adviser to the author.

Robin shook his head uneasily. "Not until the book is done," he said. "I want you to get an impression as a whole. This will be my master-piece. Besides," he added glancing at the clock, "we might be interrupted. At half past seven a friend of mine is coming to dinner."

"I hope my unexpected coming will not upset your arrangements Joyce?"

"Of course not--how can you think so?" said Robin with an air of constraint that did not escape Herrick. "You are always welcome. Will you stop the night? I can put you up."

"No! I must get back to Marsh. I am his companion and doctor for the time being. A very good billet I assure you Robin."

"What about your practice?" asked Joyce.

"I am now selling it to Grant. It is such a small practice that it is not worth my while to stick to it as against an assured income of a thousand a year."

"Is that what Marsh gives you?"

"Yes! I do not mind telling you Robin as you are such an old friend. But do not mention this to anyone else. I stay with Marsh for three years. In this way I shall be able to save money and buy a practice in a better part of the town. It is a wonderful bit of luck."

"It is indeed, and I congratulate you," replied Robin cheerfully and shaking his friend by the hand. "Marsh must be well off to be able to afford your companionship at that price."

"Yes! He has been left about eight thousand a year more or less by Colonel Carr, his late uncle. But that is his business Robin. We will not talk about it."

"Have they yet found out who killed Colonel Carr?"

"Not yet. Of course it is supposed that Frisco killed him; but the man has disappeared. When he is caught we shall know the truth. You read the case Robin. What do you think?"

"It seems as though that man were guilty," replied Joyce slowly, "but I am not prepared to offer an opinion. The fact is I am so busy with my book that I have put all these horrors out of my head. By the way, what about your Southberry Helen?"

"Miss Endicotte? Oh, I have seen a good deal of her."

"And you are still in love?"

"Not very passionately perhaps. But I think a respectable affection is better to marry upon than a wild romantic adoration that will not resist the wear and tear of life. I hope some day if Miss Endicotte will allow me, to marry her--that is when I have a good practice. But if another man more worthy of her comes along, why--"

"Ardent lover!" laughed Joyce. "If you really felt any passion you would not contemplate with equanimity the idea of an intruder. I believe you like that little journalistic girl better."

A kind of dull anger stirred in the doctor's breast at hearing Bess so flippantly alluded to. But he saw that Joyce did not mean any harm, so turned off the remark with a laugh. "She is a charming young lady Robin. But she is better as a comrade than she would be as a wife."

"A comrade is what you want," said Joyce shrewdly. "Your luke-warm affection will not win you the love of a woman."

"Perhaps not. However we shall see," Herrick was annoyed, for he felt there was some truth in this remark. He was glad when a ring came to the door and interrupted a conversation which was rapidly getting unpleasant to him. "There's your friend. Who is he?"

"A Mexican called Don Manuel Santiago."

"Humph! It it not often one foregathers with that nationality in London. Where did you meet him?"

"At the Apollo Club, Johnstone introduced me to him. Here he is. I think you will like him."

Herrick was not so sure. He had met with Mexicans on their native heath and did not like the breed. However as the man was the guest of Joyce, he felt compelled to behave at least politely. All the same knowing Robin's weakness in picking up doubtful acquaintances, he determined to be observant of the Mexican.

"Dr. Herrick, Don Manuel Santiago. And this Se?or, is my very best friend."

The little dark man clicked his heels together, foreign fashion, and bowed politely. Herrick looked at him from head to foot in one swift glance, and made up his mind that the man was a rogue, an adventurer, if nothing worse. He was not tall, and he was very lean. His face was swarthy; he had a hook nose, a black moustache, and a pair of restless shifty dark eyes. Accurately dressed in an evening suit, he wore too much jewellery. Yet for all this he did not look vulgar. There was a somewhat dangerous air about him. Herrick watching his face intently made up his mind that Don Manuel was a half caste Indian.

"I am pleased to meet you Se?or," said Don Manuel in good English but with a foreign accent. "Dr. Herrick? Ah! I know the name."

"Indeed!" said Dr. Jim, looking surprised. Robin also shared his astonishment, and expressed it.

"Why, Santiago you did not tell me you knew Herrick!" said he, as they took their seats at table.

"Did I not?" replied the Don carelessly. "Ah! that was no doubt because his name was never mentioned between us. But if I am not mistaken," said he addressing himself directly to Jim, "you were concerned in that strange case of my friend Colonel Carr."

Herrick almost bounded from his seat. That here of all places and in so unexpected a way, he should meet with a stranger who knew Carr, was like fiction. Had the incident occurred in a novel, he would have put it down as a freak of imagination on the author's part. Yet the thing had happened in real life and to himself. "Was Carr a friend of yours?" he asked.

"Twelve years and more ago," replied Santiago quietly, "we knew one another intimately in Mexico."

"Mexico!" muttered Herrick, recalling what Bess had said about Frisco's tales of North and South America, "not in Peru?"

"We went to Peru together--on an expedition."

"What sort of an expedition?" asked Joyce eagerly.

"To make our fortunes. That is the sort of expedition we all are bound to undertake."

Herrick thought of Colonel Carr's money. Was he on the point of learning sufficient of the man's wild life in the Americas, to reveal what his secret was? "Did you succeed?" he asked.

"I did not--the Colonel did. Afterwards he returned to England, and I lost sight of him. When I came over six months ago, I heard of him, and intended to pay him a visit. But I put it off and off and off--until--" he made a rapid gesture, "poor Carr! His was a sad end."

"An unexpected one," said Herrick fixing his eyes on the man. "Did you know his servant, Frisco?"

"No!" replied Manuel calmly. "Frisco was after my time, or before it; I forget which."

Somehow Herrick felt instinctively that this was a lie. According to Bess the ex-sailor had been with Carr throughout his wandering life. It was incredible that if such was the case (and Jim preferred to believe Frisco rather than Santiago)--that Frisco should not have gone on to Peru. He would be needed on an expedition such as Manuel spoke of.

"Were you treasure-hunting" asked Jim.

Don Manuel nodded "Yes! The Peruvians buried a lot of gold and jewels, at the time of the Conquest. Carr got wind of a hiding place from some one--an Indian I believe, and induced me to go with him to Peru. I was doing nothing at the time, so I went."

"Carr found the treasure?"

"I believe so. Colonel Carr was rich was he not?"

"Very rich," chimed in Joyce. "Do you remember Herrick, how astonished we were at the magnificence of that house?"

"I remember," said Herrick curtly. The interruption did n............