CHAPTER XIII 

The first few seconds after the entrance of the two men were monopolised by the greetings of Pamela with her brother. Fischer stood a little in the background, his eyes fixed upon Lutchester. His brain was used to emergencies, but he found himself here confronted by an unanswerable problem. 

"Say, this is Mr. Lutchester, isn't it?" he inquired, holding out his hand. 

"The same," Lutchester assented politely. "We met at Henry's some ten days ago, didn't we?" 

"Mr. Lutchester has brought us a letter from Dicky Green, Jimmy," Pamela explained, as she withdrew from her brother's arms. "Quite unnecessary, as it happens, because I met him in London just before we sailed." 

"Very glad to meet you, Mr. Lutchester," Jimmy declared, wringing his hand with American cordiality. "Dicky's an old pal of mine--one of the best. We graduated in the same year from Harvard." 

Conversation for a few minutes was platitudinous. Van Teyl, although he showed few signs of his recent excesses, was noisy and boisterous, clutching at this brief escape from a situation which he dreaded. Fischer on the other hand, remained in the back-ground, ominously silent, thinking rapidly, speculating and theorising as to the coincidence, if it were coincidence, of finding Lutchester and Pamela together. He listened to the former's polite conversation, never once letting his eyes wander from his face. All his thoughts were concentrated upon one problem. The mysterious escape of Sandy Graham, which had sent him flying from the country, remained unsolved. Of Pamela's share in it he had already his suspicions. Was it possible that Lutchester was the other and the central figure in that remarkable rescue? He waited his opportunity, and, during a momentary lull in the cheerful conversation, broke in with his first question. 
What did Lutchester have for Pamela and her brother?
Mr. Lutchester has brought us a letter