es, Mr. Harleston is here," she said, passing the receiver to him.

"Hello!" said Harleston.

"Can you make it convenient to drop around here sometime this evening?"
Major Ranleigh inquired.

"Will ten o'clock do?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there," said Harleston.

XVII

IN THE TAXI

At ten o'clock Harleston walked into Ranleigh's office.

"I just wish to ask," said the Major, "if you want us to pick up the man
who met Mrs. Spencer this afternoon. It's against your orders, I know,
but this chap can be arrested without resulting complications, I think.
He's an American."

"Who is he?" Harleston asked.

"Snodgrass, an ex-Captain in the Army; a man of seeming independent
means, who lives at the Boulogne."

"I'm acquainted with him," returned Harleston. "I can't think that he's
crooked. I reckon Spencer's figure and face attracted him--or probably
he has known her in Europe."

"I'm only giving you the facts: he's the first man, other than those of
her entourage, that she has met since we've had her under surveillance.
It was at Union Station, this afternoon. She went there alone, after
loitering for an hour through the shops of F Street. In the train-shed
she chanced, seemingly by the veriest accident, upon Snodgrass. He
almost bumped into her as they rounded the news-stand. From their gaiety
they are old acquaintances; and after a word he turned and accompanied
her to the cab-stand and put her in a taxi. As far as the shadow saw,
there was no letter or papers passed--only conversation. And what he
managed to overhear of it was seemingly quite innocent of value to us.
He called her Madeline and she called him Billy, which isn't his name,
and invited him to Paris; so they must be pretty well acquainted. They
are to meet at one o'clock tomorrow. That's the first matter to report.
The second is that Marston is spying around the French Embassy. He has
walked up Sixteenth Street frequently since four o'clock, and never once
glanced at the big marble mansion when he thought anyone was looking.
His eyes were busy enough other times. Also he visited, after dark,
Paublo's Eating-House in the Division, and had a talk with
Jimmy-the-Snake--a professional burglar of the best class. We are
watching The Snake, of course. Something will be done at the French
Embassy tonight, I imagine. Finally, at nine o'clock, Marston went to
Carpenter's residence and was admitted. He came out fifteen minutes
later, and returned to the