“Let us two meet him accidentally at the street corner tomorrow,” said Eleanor; “we can walk a little way with him, and with luck we ought to be able to sidetrack him into the shop. You can say you want to get a hairnet or something. When we’re safely there I can say: ‘I wish you’d tell me what you want for your birthday.’ Then you’ll have everything ready to hand⁠—the rich cousin, the fur department, and the topic of birthday presents.”

“It’s a great idea,” said Suzanne; “you really are a brick. Come round tomorrow at twenty to three; don’t be late, we must carry out our ambush to the minute.”

At a few minutes to three the next afternoon the fur-trappers walked warily towards the selected corner. In the near distance rose the colossal pile of Messrs. Goliath and Mastodon’s famed establishment. The afternoon was brilliantly fine, exactly the sort of weather to tempt a gentleman of advancing years into the discreet exercise of a leisurely walk.