The stories in this series were first published in The Strand Magazine from November to August under the general title "Mr. Cray's Adventures. Joseph P. It has been expanded to include an illustrated interview with Oppenheim that The Strand Magazine published while the series was running.
THE long Continental train drew slowly into Victoria Station, and through a long vista of wide-flung doors a heterogeneous stream of demobilized soldiers, nurses, "Wrafs," and other of the picturesque accompaniments of a concluded war flowed out on to the platform.
The majority lingered about to exchange greetings with friends and to search for their luggage. Not so Mr. James P. Before the train had come to a standstill, he was on his way to the barrier. Cray replied, without slackening speed. What you need is five shillings. Let's get together.
Whether he was serving a lunatic or not, the five shillings was good money and the porter earned it. In exactly two minutes after the arrival of the train Mr. Cray was on his way to the Milan Hotel. The streets were not overcrowded. The driver had seen the passing of that munificent tip and gathered that his fare was in a hurry. They reached the Milan in exactly nine minutes. Even then Mr. Cray had the strained appearance of a man looking into futurity. He stopped the man at the court entrance, fulfilled the latter's wildest dreams with regard to emolument, and presented himself eagerly before the little counter.
Here's your key, sent over half an hour ago. Cray slipped half a crown into the lift-man's hand, made pantomimic signs with his palm, and they shot upwards without reference to the slow approach of a little party of intended passengers. Out stepped Mr. Cray on the fourth floor, and his face beamed as he recognized the valet standing before number eighty-nine.
