,
glancing at the sample Grace held out to her. "Everybody's been buying
it. It's on order. Have it in next week."

Grace left the store almost on the run and hurried into a shop farther
down the street, only to meet with the same disappointing reply. Three
blocks farther on was the "French Shop." Grace was sure of finding it
there, but was equally sure it would be infinitely more expensive.
Still, she only needed a yard and a half. She was about to enter the
shop, when the stocky figure of a man just ahead of her sent a sudden
thrill of apprehension through her. There was something unpleasantly
familiar about the round shoulders and slouching walk. Forgetting her
errand, Grace began following him, keeping not more than twenty feet
behind him. As he neared the first cross street the man glanced
furtively about him, then, turning into the intersecting street, hurried
on, almost at a run. Grace, bent only on seeing the stranger's face,
unhesitatingly dogged his footsteps. It was now after six o 'clock and
growing darker with every moment. Block after block they went, but now
Grace kept a distance of a hundred feet or more between herself and the
man she was following. She observed rather anxiously that they were
nearing the end of Main Street, where the houses were fewer and farther
apart.

All at once her quarry stopped short and peered sharply about him
through the gathering twilight. Grace strolled on at a leisurely pace,
though her heart beat violently. Suppose instead of going on he were to
turn and walk toward her. Grace trembled a little. She was drawing
altogether too near to him to suit her. She was now positive that he was
"Larry, the Locksmith." Suddenly the man left the sidewalk and started
across a field used in the summer by the small boys of Overton as a
playground.

This ended the pursuit as far as Grace was concerned. Stepping behind a
tree at the edge of the field she strained her eyes to watch the hulking
figure as it moved swiftly on. Then she gave a little exclamation of
surprise and triumph. The man was hurrying up the steps of a dingy
little house that stood at the end of a row of similar houses which
bounded the side of the field directly opposite where she stood. Again
consulting her watch, she hesitated. It was almost seven o'clock, and
she was at least a mile from Wayne Hall. Anne would wonder at her
absence, for she had left no word regarding her call upon Arline. She
would be more than lik