An Amiable Charlatan | Page 4

is a species of slavery. We live in overcivilized times. There seems to
be very little room anywhere for a man to gratify his natural instincts
for change and adventure."
I murmured my acquiescence with his sentiments and my companion
paused for a few minutes, his whole attention devoted to his dinner.
"Might one inquire," I asked, after a brief pause, "as to your own
profession? You are an American, are you not?"
"I am most certainly an American," Mr. Parker assented.
"In business?" I asked.
Mr. Parker looked round. Our table was comparatively isolated.
"I am an adventurer," he replied mysteriously.
I stared at him and repeated the word. He beamed pleasantly upon me.
"An adventurer! My daughter, whom you have seen here with me, is an
adventuress. We live by our wits and we do pretty well at it. Sometimes
we live in luxury. Sometimes we are up against it good and hard. The
Ritz one day, you know, and Bloomsbury the next; but lots of fun all
the time."
I looked at him a little blankly.
"To a certain extent I suppose you are joking?" I asked.
"To no extent at all," he assured me. "By the by, as regards that packet;

would you mind just slipping it under this newspaper?"
I withdrew it from my pocket and obeyed him at once. Mr. Parker's
fingers seemed to play with it for a moment and I noticed at that
moment what a strong and capable hand he seemed to have, with
fingers of unusual length and suppleness.
A dark faced _maître d'hôtel_, who presided over our portion of the
room, came up smiling, with an inquiry as to our coffee. He exchanged
a casual sentence or two with Mr. Parker, bowed and passed on. Mr.
Parker, a moment later, with a little smile lifted the newspaper. The
packet had disappeared. He noticed my look of surprise and seemed
gratified.
"A mere trifle, that!" he declared. "I can assure you that I could have
taken it out of your pocket, if I had desired, without your feeling a
thing."
"Wonderful!" I murmured, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
"Just a gift!" he continued modestly. "We all have our talents, you
know. I have ordered some special coffee."
I was beginning to think rapidly now.
"By the by," I asked, "what is Mr. Cullen's profession?"
"He is a detective," Mr. Parker answered, without hesitation; "and, to
my mind, a singularly bad one. For two months he has had what they
call his eye on me. Between ourselves I think he will have his eye on
me still in another two months' time. I am sure I hope so, for I frankly
admit that half the savor of life would be gone if my friend, Mr. Cullen,
were to finally give me up as a bad job and leave me alone."
I suppose that something of what I was feeling was reflected in my face.
I had always considered myself a man of the world and I was interested
enough in my fellows to enjoy mixing with all classes.

But there was the girl!
"You are thinking--!" my companion began softly.
"Your friend," I interrupted, "has just entered the restaurant. He is
coming toward this table."
Mr. Parker's expression never changed. Not a muscle twitched. His
tone was even careless.
"Just as well, perhaps," he remarked, "that we worked that little
conjuring trick."
The detective stood once more at our table. My instinctive dislike of
him was now an accomplished thing. I hated his smile of subdued
triumph, and all my fundamental ideas as to law and order were
seriously affected by it. I was distinctly on the side of my new
acquaintance.
"I am sorry to interrupt this little feast," Mr. Cullen said, "but I shall
have to trouble you both to come with me for a short time."
Mr. Parker carefully clipped the end of his cigar and leaned back in his
chair while he lit it.
"My friend Cullen," he remonstrated, "I have no objection to offering
myself up as a victim to your super-abundant energy and trotting about
with you wherever you choose; but when it comes to dragging my
friends into it, I just want to say right here that I think you are carrying
things a little too far--just a little too far, sir."
"If either of you seriously object to my request," Mr. Cullen replied
doggedly, "I can put the matter on a different basis."
"Who is this friend of yours and why should we go anywhere with
him?" I asked.
Mr. Parker shook his head mournfully.

"You may well ask," he sighed. "You may not think it, to look at his
ingenuous and honest expression, but the fact, nevertheless, remains
that Mr. Cullen is a misguided but zealous member