the English newspapers. There
has been a long discussion as to the next meeting-place. Grex suggested
a yacht. To that they all agreed. There is a man named Schwann down in
Monaco has a yacht for hire. Mr. Grex knows about it and he has sent the
man I spoke of into Monaco this afternoon to hire it. They are all going
to embark at ten o'clock to-night. They are going to hold their meeting
in the cabin."

Lane whistled softly. He was wide awake now.

"Go on," he murmured. "Go on. Say, this is great!"

"I want," Hunterleys explained, "your yacht to take the place of the
other. I want it to be off the Villa Mimosa at ten o'clock to-night,
your pinnace to be at the landing-stage of the villa to bring Mr. Grex
and his friends on board. I want you to haul down your American flag,
keep your American sailors out of sight, cover up the Stars and Stripes
in your cabin, have only your foreign stewards on show. Schwann's yacht
is a costly one. No one will know the difference. You must get up now
and show me over the boat. I have to scheme, somehow or other, how we
can hide ourselves on it so that I can overhear the end of this plot."

The face of Richard Lane was like the face of an ingenuous boy who sees
suddenly a Paradise of sport stretched out before him. His mouth was
open, his eyes gleaming.

"Gee, but this is glorious!" he exclaimed. "I'm with you all the way.
Why, it's wonderful, man! It's a chapter from the Arabian Nights over
again!"

He leapt to his feet and rang the bell furiously. Then he rushed to the
telephone.

"Blue serge clothes," he ordered the valet. "Get my bath ready."

"Any breakfast, monsieur?"

"Oh, breakfast be hanged! No, wait a moment. Get me some coffee and a
roll. I'll take it while I dress. Hurry up!... Yes, is that the enquiry
office? This is Mr. Lane. Send round to my chauffeur at the garage at
once and tell him that I want the car at the door in a quarter of an
hour. Righto! ... Sit down, Hunterleys. Smoke or do whatever you want
to. We'll be off to the yacht in no time."

Hunterleys clapped the young giant on the shoulders as he rushed through
to the bathroom.

"You're a brick, Richard," he declared. "I'll wait for you down in the
hall. I've a pal there."

"I'll be down in twenty minutes or earlier," Lane promised. "What a
lark!"

CHAPTER XXXIV

COFFEE FOR ONE ONLY

The breaking up of Mr. Grex's luncheon-party was the signal for a
certain amount of man[oe]uvring on the