ered promptly--when she was past, he looked
at Mrs. Clephane.

"The cat!" she muttered; then smiled quizzically. "Such a pleasant air
of proprietorship," she observed.

"Too pleasant," he returned. "I've something to tell you as to it and
her, when the present matter is ended."

"Will it keep?"

He nodded. "I can tell it better then--and have more time for the
telling."

The headwaiter approached casually, as though surveying the table.

"Well!" said Harleston.

"He went to the private mail boxes; she's waiting in the lobby," the man
replied. "He received a small letter, which he opened; it enclosed only
another envelope, which he put in his pocket without opening. He
returned to the lobby and they left the Club-House."

Harleston nodded. "It's time for us to be moving," said he to Mrs.
Clephane. "Will you trust me?" he asked as they passed into the lobby,
at the far end of which Carpenter was sitting absorbed in his cigar.

"Absolutely!" she replied.

"And will you go with Carpenter; he understands? I'll be with you
shortly. I must act quickly now."

Carpenter arose as they neared.

"Just started," said he, and bowed to Mrs. Clephane.

"Mrs. Clephane understands," Harleston explained "I confide her to your
care. _A bientot._"

He hurried out. A taxi, waiting with power on, sped up; he sprang
aboard and it raced away.

As it neared the Connecticut Avenue bridge, the taxi slowed down a
trifle and the driver half-faced around.

"The other car is just ahead, sir," he reported.

"Very good," said Harleston. "Does the driver know we're behind him?"

"I've signalled, sir, and he's answered."

"Maintain the distance," Harleston directed.

"Yes sir," said the man.

Keeping about a hundred yards apart--the two cars sped down the hill and
around Dupont Circle to Massachusetts Avenue, thence by it and Sixteenth
Street to H. The one in the lead continued on toward Fourteenth.
Harleston's shot down Fifteenth, flashed over the tracks at Pennsylvania
Avenue, swung into F Street, and drew in at the Chateau just as the
other came around the Fourteenth Street corner, and rolled slowly up to
the curb.

As Snodgrass was assisting Madeline Spencer to alight--and taking his
time about it--Harleston glanced at his watch, sprang from his car, and
hastened over.

"This is fortunate, Mrs. Spencer!" he exclaimed. "Just after you left
the Rataplan the Secretary of State telephoned that he was summoned to
the White H