"Hallo," grunted Rohscheimer, "here's Inspector Sheffield, from Scotland Yard!"--and apprehensively he fingered tie-pin and watch-chain, and furtively counted the rings upon his fat fingers. "What's up?"
The shrewd but not unkindly eyes of the C. I. D. man were scanning the packed rooms, over the heads of the crowd--keenly, suspiciously. With a brief nod he passed the group, and pressed on his way. Mr. Oppner halted.
"What's the trouble, Oppner?" inquired Rohscheimer thickly. "Is there a thief here or something?"
"Worse!" drawled the other. "Séverac Bablon's here!"
"Oh, Lord!" groaned Rohscheimer, and surreptitiously slipped all his rings off and into his trousers pocket. "Let's get out before we're all held up!"
"He don't figure on a hold-up," replied Oppner; "it ain't a strong line at a matinee. A hop-parade is the time for the crystals. We don't know what he's layin' for, but it's a cinch he's here."
"How do you know?" asked a brother officer of Haredale's, who had joined the group.
Mr. Oppner took a cigarette-case from his tail-pocket and held up between finger and thumb a cigarette stump of an unusual yellow colour.
"We've got on his trail at last!" he said. "He sheds these cigs. like a moulting chicken sheds feathers. This one was in the tray inside a taxi--and the taxi dropped his fare right here!"
He returned the cigarette stump to the case, the case to his pocket, and pushed on after Sheffield. As his stooping form disappeared from view Sheard entered the room. Immediately he was claimed by Mr. Rohscheimer.
"Hallo, Sheard!" called the financier, and for the moment even the imminence of the Séverac Bablon peril was forgotten--"what's the latest? Is war declared?"
"There was nothing official up to the time I left," replied the pressman; "but we are expecting it every minute. Mr. Belford and Lord Evershed have just been summoned to Buckingham Palace. I met them going as I came in."
Rohscheimer confidently seized the lapel of the journalist's coat.
"What do you think that means, now?" he asked cunningly.
"It means," replied Sheard, "that within the hour Europe may be in arms! Haredale is on duty this evening--so there will be no honeymoon! Everything is at sixes and sevens. I have a couple of cubs watching; and if Baron Hecht, when he leaves the conference at the Palace, proceeds home, there may be no war. If he starts for Victoria Station--war is declared!"