“I think we met in Northamptonshire--didn’t we?” asked the man who called himself Paget.
“Oh, you’ve met before--eh?” asked Peterson.
“Yes; in the hunting-field,” Falconer said vaguely, and then all three had drinks together, and Falconer and his friend were afterwards compelled to leave.
“Who is that man Paget?” Geoffrey asked as soon as they were in the taxi.
“Oh, quite a nice fellow. I met him one day in the train as I was coming back from Carnarvon. He seemed to know something about wireless, and he gave me his card. So we met once or twice afterwards. He has rooms in Half Moon Street.”
“And he’s fond of hunting,” Falconer said. “Have you ever seen him with a tall, dark, very good-looking girl?”
“A girl with a mole on her left cheek? Oh, yes. One afternoon about a week ago I called on him and found her having tea at his rooms. I didn’t catch her name. She was dressed in brown, and had a beautiful set of furs.”
“I know the young lady. She’s a friend of mine,” Falconer said briefly, more puzzled than ever. “But do you really know anything about Paget?”
“Only that he seems to be a man of considerable means, very generous, and quite a good sort.”
Geoffrey remained silent. He was thinking deeply. It seemed that May Farncombe’s knowledge of wireless--and she quite unconsciously had betrayed a fairly wide grasp of the science and its latest developments--had been derived from the man whom she had pretended was a stranger to her.
Paget’s attitude towards Geoffrey’s friend had been most affable. He had even called him by his Christian name, and had reminded him of an appointment for dinner two days later.
Before they left the stranger added: “I hope, Mr. Falconer, that we shall meet again very soon.”
They did meet, and once under rather curious circumstances.
Geoffrey each night worked hard at his new design for the calling-device, to which he was attaching apparatus to record upon the tape the signals received. He met with failure after failure until at last, one night, he set his calling-device to receive signals from the efficient station of a Dutch amateur at Amsterdam--known in the world of wireless as “P.Y.N.” In wireless both in America and England, people and places are known by their call-signal, rather than by their names. He knew that on that particular evening “P.Y.N.” would call by Morse before sending telephony and music to English amateurs.