he pretense of a
casual rencontre. Nevertheless, Spencer's chivalric nature was stirred
to the depths. The conversation overheard in the Embankment Hotel had
given him a knowledge of the characteristics of two women that would
have amazed both of them were they told of it. He was able to measure
too the exact extent of Bower's acquaintance with Helen, while he was
confident that the relationship between Bower and Millicent Jaques had
gone a great deal further than might be inferred from the actress's
curt statement that he was one whom she "wished to avoid." These two
extremes could be reconciled only by a most unfavorable estimate of
Bower, and that the American conceded without argument.

Of course, there remained the possibility that Bower was really a
traveler that day by idle chance; but Spencer blew aside this
alternative with the first whiff of smoke from the cigar he lit
mechanically as soon as the train left the station.

"No," he said, in grim self communing, "the skunk found out somehow
that she was going abroad, and planned to accompany her. I could see
it in the smirk on his face as soon as he discovered her whereabouts
on the platform. If he means to summer at Maloja, I guess my thousand
dollars was expended to no good purpose, and the quicker I put up
another thousand to pull things straight the happier I shall be. And
let me tell you, mother, that if I get Helen through this business
well and happy, I shall quit fooling round as godfather, or stage
uncle, or any other sort of soft-hearted idiot. Meanwhile, Bower has
jumped my claim."

His glance happened to fall on an official with the legend "Ticket
Inspector" on the collar of his coat. He remembered that this man, or
some other closely resembling him, had visited the carriage in which
Bower traveled.

"Say," he cried, hailing him on the spur of the moment, "when does the
next train leave for St. Moritz?"

"At two-twenty from Charing Cross, sir. But the Engadine Express is
the best one. Did you miss it?"

"No. I just blew in here to see a friend off, and the trip kind of
appealed to me. Did you notice a reserved compartment for a Mr. Mark
Bower?"

"I know Mr. Bower very well, sir. He goes to Paris or Vienna twenty
times a year."

"To-day he is going to Switzerland."

"So he is, to Zurich, I think. First single he had. But he's sure to
bring up in Vienna or Frankfort. I wish I knew half what he knows
about foreign money business. I shouldn't