ecretary--if that's any indication."

"Rather the reverse, I should say. However, he met Madeline Spencer
yesterday in Union Station. The meeting was apparently accidental, and
so far as his shadow could see or hear was entirely innocent."

"I distrust the apparently accidental and the entirely innocent--in
diplomacy," Carpenter remarked. "We should keep an eye on Snodgrass."

"Meanwhile what are _you_ doing as to the French key-word--trying for
it?" Harleston asked, going toward the door.

Carpenter nodded. "I've got my lines out. I hope to land it in a few
days. If Marston has it, or gets it earlier, so much the better for us."

Harleston had walked a block before he recollected that he was obligated
to Ranleigh to go in a taxi. The one in which he had come from
Headquarters he had dismissed, not knowing how long he would be at
Carpenter's, and he had neglected to telephone for another. He would not
go back to Carpenter's; and, anyway, it was nonsense always to be
guarding himself from the enemy.

He had not a thing they wanted, nor did he know aught that would be of
use to them; and his directorship of the affair was not of great
importance; another, if he knew the facts, could take his place and see
the matter through. That was the important point, however. Time was
exceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappear
for a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenter
awoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him to
take unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up the
street, on the other side; he would telephone from it for a taxi.

A moment later, with the honk of a horn, a yellow taxi rounded the
corner and bore his way.

He raised his stick to the driver, in event of him being free--and
stepped out from the sidewalk.

The man shook his head in negation and the machine flashed by--leaving
Harleston staring after it with a somewhat surprised and very much
puzzled frown.

Madeline Spencer was in the taxi--alone. Furthermore, she had not seen
him.

XVIII

DOUBT

At N, the next cross-street, the taxi turned west. Instantly Harleston
made for the corner. When he got there, the machine was swinging north
into Connecticut Avenue. He ran down N Street at the top of his speed.
When he reached the avenue the car was not in sight, nor was there any
one on the street as far as Dupont Circle; and as thoroughfares radiate
fr