a better guide."

There was desultory talk until the caller got up to go. As they shook
hands, Enderby said:

"Has any one been tracking you lately?"

"No. Not that I've noticed."

"There was a fellow lurking suspiciously outside; heavy-set, dark
clothes, soft hat. I thought that he might be watching you."

For a man of Banneker's experience of the open, to detect the cleverest
of trailing was easy. Although this watcher was sly and careful in his
pursuit, which took him all the way to Chelsea Village, his every move
was clear to the quarry, until the door of The House With Three Eyes
closed upon its owner. Banneker went to bed very uneasy. On whose behoof
was he being shadowed? Should he warn Io?... In the morning there was no
trace of the man, nor, though Banneker trained every sharpened faculty
to watchfulness, did he see him again.... While he was mentally
engrossed in wholly alien considerations, the solution materialized out
of nothing to his inner vision. It was Willis Enderby who was being
watched, and, as a side issue, any caller upon him. That evening a taxi,
occupied by a leisurely young man in evening clothes, drove through East
68th Street, where stood the Enderby house, dim, proud, and stiff. The
taxi stopped before a mansion not far away, and the young man addressed
a heavy-bodied individual who stood, with vacant face uplifted to the
high moon, as if about to bay it. Said the young man:

"Mr. Ives wishes you to report to him at once."

"Huh?" ejaculated the other, lowering his gaze.

"At the usual place," pursued the young man.

"Oh! Aw-right."

His suspicions fully confirmed, Banneker drove away. It was now Ives's
move, he remarked to himself, smiling. Or perhaps Marrineal's. He would
wait. Within a few days he had his opportunity. Returning to his office
after luncheon, he found a penciled note from Ives on his desk,
notifying him that Miss Raleigh had called him on the 'phone.

Inquiring for the useful Ives, Banneker learned that he was closeted
with Marrineal. Such conferences were regarded in the office as
inviolable; but Banneker was in uncompromising mood. He entered with no
more of preliminary than a knock. After giving his employer good-day he
addressed Ives.

"I found a note from you on my desk."

"Yes. The message came half an hour ago."

"Through the office?"

"No. On your 'phone."

"How did you get into my room?"

"The door was open."

Banneker reflected. This was po