be punching tickets here
very long. Thank you, sir. Charing Cross at two-twenty; but you may
have difficulty about booking a berth in the sleeper. Just now
everybody is crossing the Channel."

"It looks like that," said Spencer, who had obtained the information
he wanted. Taking a cab, he drove to the sleeping car company's
office, where he asked for a map of the Swiss railways. Zurich, as
Bower's destination, puzzled him; but he did not falter in his
purpose.

"The man is a rogue," he thought, "or I have never seen one. Anyhow, a
night in the train doesn't cut any ice, and Switzerland can fill the
bill for a week as well as London or Scotland."

He was fortunate in the fact that some person wished to postpone a
journey that day, and the accident assured him of comfortable quarters
from Calais onward. Then he drove to a bank, and to "The Firefly"
office. Mackenzie had just opened his second bottle of beer. By this
time he regarded Spencer as an amiable lunatic. He greeted him now
with as much glee as his dreary nature was capable of.

"Hello!" he said. "Been to see the last of the lady?"

"Not quite. I want to take back what I said about not going to
Switzerland. I'm following this afternoon."

"Great Scott! You're sudden."

"I'm built that way," said Spencer dryly. "Here are the sixty pounds
I promised you. Now I want you to do me a favor. Send a messenger to
the Wellington Theater with a note for Miss Millicent Jaques, and ask
her if she can oblige you with the present address of Miss Helen
Wynton. Make a pretext of work. No matter if she writes to her friend
and the inquiry leads to talk. You can put up a suitable fairy tale, I
have no doubt."

"Better still, let my assistant write. Then if necessary I can curse
him for not minding his own business. But what's in the wind?"

"I wish to find out whether or not Miss Jaques knows of this Swiss
journey; that is all. If the reply reaches you by one o'clock send it
to the Embankment Hotel. Otherwise, post it to me at the Kursaal,
Maloja-Kulm; but not in an office envelop."

"You'll come back, Mr. Spencer?" said the editor plaintively, for he
had visions of persuading the eccentric American to start a magazine
of his own.

"Oh, yes. You'll probably see me again within six days. I'll look in
and report progress. Good by."

A messenger caught him as he was leaving the hotel. Mackenzie had not
lost any time, and Miss Jaques happened to be at the theater.

"S