CHAPTER XI 

THE FRUIT THAT IS OF GOLD 

At precisely the hour agreed upon Harcutt and Densham met in one of the ante-rooms leading into the "Milan" restaurant. They surrendered their coats and hats to an attendant, and strolled about waiting for Wolfenden. A quarter of an hour passed. The stream of people from the theatres began to grow thinner. Still, Wolfenden did not come. Harcutt took out his watch. 

"I propose that we do not wait any longer for Wolfenden," he said. "I saw him this afternoon, and he answered me very oddly when I reminded him about to-night. There is such a crowd here too, that they will not keep our table much longer." 

"Let us go in, by all means," Densham agreed. "Wolfenden will easily find us if he wants to!" 

Harcutt returned his watch to his pocket slowly, and without removing his eyes from Densham's face. 

"You're not looking very fit, old chap," he remarked. "Is anything wrong?" 

Densham shook his head and turned away. 

"I am a little tired," he said. "We've been keeping late hours the last few nights. There's nothing the matter with me, though. Come, let us go in!" 

Harcutt linked his arm in Densham's. The two men stood in the doorway. 

"I have not asked you yet," Harcutt said, in a low tone. "What fortune?" 

Densham laughed a little bitterly. 

"I will tell you all that I know presently," he said. 

"You have found out something, then?" 

"I have found out," Densham answered, "all that I care to know! I have found out so much that I am leaving England within a week!" 
Was Harcutt able to make him laugh?
Densham laughed a little bitterly. 