d his goal he noted that both the
maids on the outside of the booth were for the instant engaged in
helping the members of a group of men and women on with their outdoor
wraps. So much the better for him. He headed straight for the third girl
of the force, the one whose station was within the open-fronted booth.
In front of her on the flat shelf intervening between them he laid down
the numbered pink slip, which in the scheme of his hopes and fears stood
for so much.

"Never mind my hat, miss," he said, making his tone casual; "I'm not
through with my supper yet. But just let me have my coat for one minute,
will you, please? I want to get something out of one of the pockets to
show to a friend."

There was nothing unusual, nothing unconventional about the request. The
girl glanced at the figures on the check, then stepped back into her
cuddy, seeking among rows of burdened hooks for whatsoever articles
would be on the hook bearing corresponding figures. To Trencher,
dreading the advent of the Stamford man out of the Chinese room
alongside him and yet not daring to turn his head to look, it seemed she
was a very long time finding the hook. In reality the time she took was
to be gauged by seconds rather than by minutes.

"Is this the garment you desired, sir?" Speaking with an affected
English drawl and with neither curiosity nor interest in her face, the
girl laid across her counter the tan-coloured overcoat, one of its big
smoked-pearl buttons glinting dimly iridescent in the light as she
spread it out.

"That's it, thank you. Just one moment and I'll give it back to you."

Trencher strove to throttle and succeeded fairly well in throttling the
eager note in his voice as he took up the coat by its collar in his left
hand.

The fingers trembled in spite of him as he thrust his right hand into
the right-hand pocket. Twitching and groping they closed on what was
hidden there--a slick, cool, round, flat, thin object, trade-dollar
size. At the touch of the thing he sought and for all, too, that he
stood in such perilous case, Trencher's heart jumped with relief and
gratification. No need for him to look to make sure that he had his luck
piece. He knew it by its feel and its heft and its size; besides the tip
of one finger, sliding over its smooth rimless surface, had found in the
centre of it the depression of the worn hole, and the sensitive nerves
had flashed the news to his brain. He slid it into a trousers pocket