A middle-aged man, with iron grey hair and moustache, who wore a frock coat and a white waistcoat, and in some indefinable manner suggested a retired naval officer, was sitting at their table smoking a long, thin cigar.

At sight of him, Presley became animated.

He uttered a mild exclamation: "Why, isn't that Mr.Cedarquist ?" "Cedarquist ?" repeated Lyman Derrick.

"I know him well.

Yes, of course, it is," he continued.