you, Sir Charles," said the new valet.
"You know that I never see any one until my dressing is complete."
"He insists upon seeing you, sir. He pushed open the door."
"Pushed it open! What d'you mean, Lorimer? Why didn't you put him out?"
A smile passed over the servant's face. At the same moment there came a deep voice from the passage.
"You show me in this instant, young man, d'ye 'ear? Let me see your master, or it'll be the worse for you."
I thought that I had heard the voice before, but when, over the shoulder of the valet, I caught a glimpse of a large, fleshy, bull- face, with a flattened Michael Angelo nose in the centre of it, I knew at once that it was my neighbour at the supper party.
"It's Warr, the prizefighter, sir," said I.
"Yes, sir," said our visitor, pushing his huge form into the room. "It's Bill Warr, landlord of the One Ton public-'ouse, Jermyn Street, and the gamest man upon the list. There's only one thing that ever beat me, Sir Charles, and that was my flesh, which creeps over me that amazin' fast that I've always got four stone that 'as no business there. Why, sir, I've got enough to spare to make a feather-weight champion out of. You'd 'ardly think, to look at me, that even after Mendoza fought me I was able to jump the four-foot ropes at the ring-side just as light as a little kiddy; but if I was to chuck my castor into the ring now I'd never get it till the wind blew it out again, for blow my dicky if I could climb after. My respec's to you, young sir, and I 'ope I see you well."
My uncle's face had expressed considerable disgust at this invasion of his privacy, but it was part of his position to be on good terms with the fighting-men, so he contented himself with asking curtly what business had brought him there. For answer the huge prizefighter looked meaningly at the valet.
"It's important, Sir Charles, and between man and man," said he.
"You may go, Lorimer. Now, Warr, what is the matter?"
The bruiser very calmly seated himself astride of a chair with his arms resting upon the back of it.
"I've got information, Sir Charles," said he.
"Well, what is it?" cried my uncle, impatiently.
"Information of value."
"Out with it, then!"
"Information that's worth money," said Warr, and pursed up his lips.
"I see. You want to be paid for what you know?"
The prizefighter smiled an affirmative.
"Well, I don't buy things on trust. You should know me better than to try on such a game with me."
"I know you for what you are, Sir Charles, and that is a noble, slap-up Corinthian. But if I was to use this against you, d'ye see, it would be worth 'undreds in my pocket. But my 'eart won't let me do it, for Bill Warr's always been on the side o' good sport and fair play. If I use it for you, then I expect that you won't see me the loser."
"You can do what you like," said my uncle. "If your news is of service to me, I shall know how to treat you."
"You can't say fairer than that. We'll let it stand there, gov'nor, and you'll do the 'andsome thing, as you 'ave always 'ad the name for doin'. Well, then, your man, Jim 'Arisen, fights Crab Wilson, of Gloucester, at Crawley Down to-morrow mornin' for a stake."
"What of that?"
"Did you 'appen to know what the bettin' was yesterday?"
"It was three to two on Wilson."
"Right you are, gov'nor. Three to two was offered in my own bar- parlour. D'you know what the bettin' is to-day?"
"I have not been out yet."
"Then I'll tell you. It's seven to one against your man."
"What?"
"Seven to one, gov'nor, no less."
"You're talking nonsense, Warr! How could the betting change from three to two to seven to one?"
"Ive been to Tom Owen's, and I've been to the 'Ole in the Wall, and I've been to the Waggon and 'Orses, and you can get seven to one in any of them. There's tons of money being laid against your man. It's a 'orse to a 'en in every sportin' 'ouse and boozin' ken from 'ere to Stepney."
For a moment the expression upon my uncle's face made me realize that this match was really a serious matter to him.