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THE BAR at the Palace Hotel seemed to have been especially designed by the architect for the business which Milsom had in hand. He had armed himself with a cable form and was apparently struggling with composition at one of the little tables when the two travellers from New Zealand drifted over to the bar for their evening refreshment. Milsom recognized Maddox at once. He allowed them a little rope before he, too, slouched over to the barman with a request for information.
“Supposing I send a cable to Wellington in New Zealand now, what time of day would they get it out there?”
This appeared to be a riddle which had never been put to the barman before. He suggested applying to the office for the information, but Maddox interposed.
“I can tell you that, sir. Seven o’clock in the even
