of the New York Building, I chanced
to lift my eyes toward it. The great curtains between the fluted
columns were swaying in the breeze, and from between two, which she
seemed to be trying to hold together with unsteady hands, the face of
the little brunette, dark and frowning, looked cautiously out.

CHAPTER VIII.

'STRAIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER.'

When Farmer Camp had presented himself at the rendezvous after his
visit to the bureau, he had found Smug awaiting him, but in company
with a muscular stranger, with whom he represented himself to have
important business; and after a few 'leading questions,' which Camp
answered quite naively, the two excused themselves, Smug making a
second appointment for the following day.

Again the farmer was prompt, and this time Mrs. Camp also. I did not
make my presence known to them, and Smug did not appear, so I left
them to digest this clear case of perfidy, while they viewed the
wonders of the Transportation Building and the great golden doorway;
and, believing, like Brainerd, that the Midway was a mine likely to
yield us at least a clue, I turned my steps westward, my thoughts a
singular medley, in which the Camps, Miss Jenrys, Delbras, Greenback
Bob, the little brunette, and Monsieur Voisin were strangely
intermingled; and--I am obliged to admit it--the young fellow who had
accosted me upon Midway, and avowed a knowledge of Miss Jenrys, was
also in my thoughts.

If it was true that he knew the owner of the black bag, why not
question him--carelessly, of course? Perhaps--well, perhaps he knew
Monsieur Voisin also.

I could hardly have given myself a reason for this sudden anxiety, but
it was there, and it sent me straight down Midway Plaisance, as nearly
in my former tracks as was possible. It was too late for breakfast, I
assured myself, and far too early for luncheon, ergo, if my friend the
guard was still upon his beat, I must surely see him, sooner or later.

And so it proved. As I emerged from the shadow of the viaduct, over
which the Intramural rattled and rolled, I saw him, not far ahead and
coming toward me, his hands clasped behind him, his chin-strap down,
his face absorbed, and seemingly oblivious of all about him.

When we were but a few feet apart, he turned upon his heel and began
his backward march, with the same air of indifference to all about
him.

As he neared the long low cottage opposite the village of the little
Javanese, and having 'Java or