he cried. "Cassowary, old man, at the
next crossroads turn to the right and run in at the first gate. There's a
farmhouse in the midst of an orchard; we'll stop there and change our
clothes."

As the car started Deering whirled upon Hood and shook him violently by
the collar.

"I'm sick of all this rot! I can't stand any more, I tell you. I'm going
to quit right here!"

Hood drew his arm round him affectionately.

"My dear son, have I failed you at any point? Have you ever in your life
had any adventures to compare with those you've had with me? Stop whining
and trust all to Hood!"

Deering sank back into his corner with a growl of suppressed rage.

When they reached the farmhouse Hood drew out a key and opened the front
door with a proprietorial air.

"Whose place is this? I want to know what I'm getting in for," Deering
demanded wrathfully.

"Mine, dearest Tuck! Mine, and the taxes paid. I use it as a rest-house
for weary and jaded crooks, if that will ease your mind!"

Cassowary struck matches and lighted candles, disclosing a half-furnished
room in great disorder. Old clothing, paper bags that had contained food,
a violin, and books in good bindings littered a table in the middle of
the floor, and articles of clothing were heaped in confusion on a
time-battered settle. The odor of stale pipe smoke hung upon the air.
Under an empty bottle on the mantel Hood found a scrap of paper which he
scanned for a moment and then tore into pieces.

"Just a scratch from good old Fogarty; he's been taking the rest-cure
here between jobs. Skipped yesterday; same chap that left his mark for me
on that barn. One of the royal good fellows, Fogarty; does his work
neatly--never carries a gun or pots a cop; knows he can climb out of any
jail that ever was made, and that, son, gives any man a joyful sense of
ease and security. The Tombs might hold him, but he avoids large cities;
knows his limitations like a true man of genius. Rare bird; thrifty
doesn't describe him; he's just plain stingy; sells stolen postage-stamps
at par; the only living yegg that can put that over! By George, I
wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't sell 'em at a premium!"

As he talked he rummaged among the old clothes, chose a mud-splashed pair
of trousers, and bade Deering put them on, adding an even more
disreputable coat and hat. Cassowary helped himself to a change of
raiment, and Hood selected what seemed to be the worst of the lot.

"Three suspi