was hungry, why, Maku would eat, while he himself would wait outside like
a starving child before a baker's window. But Maku, it seemed, was not
hungry. Through the window Orme saw him walk to the cashier's desk and
apparently ask a question. In answer, the woman behind the desk-pointed
to a huge book which lay on the counter near by. Orme recognized it as
the city directory.

For some time Maku studied the pages. Then he seemed to appeal to the
cashier for help, for she pulled the book to her, looked at him as though
she were asking a question, and then, rapidly running through the leaves,
placed her finger at a certain part of a certain page and turned the book
around so that the Japanese could see. He nodded and, after bowing in a
curious fashion, came back to the street.

Orme had, meantime, walked on for a little way. He would have gone to the
restaurant in an endeavor to find out what address Maku had wished, but
for two reasons: The cashier might refuse to tell him, or she might have
forgotten the name. In either event his opportunity to follow Maku would
thus be lost--and to follow Maku was still his best course. Accordingly
he watched the Japanese go back to a Clark Street car and climb aboard.

It was an open car, with transverse seats, and Maku had chosen a position
about two-thirds of the way back. There was, as yet, only one other
passenger. How to get aboard without being seen by Maku was a hard
problem for Orme, but he solved it by taking a chance. Walking rapidly
toward the next corner, away from the car, he got out of the direct rays
of the street-lamp, and waited.

Presently the car started. It almost reached Orme's corner when he
signaled it and, hurrying into the street, swung on to the back platform.

There had been barely time for the car to slow down a little. Maku could
not well have seen him without turning his head, and Orme had watched the
little Japanese closely enough to know that he had continued to stare
straight before him.

Safe on the back platform, a desire to smoke came to Orme. He found a
cigar in his case and lighted it. While he was shielding the match, he
looked over his hollowed hand and saw Maku produce a cigarette and light
it. The Japanese had apparently wished the consolation of tobacco just as
Orme had.

"An odd coincidence," muttered Orme. "I hope it wasn't mind-reading." And
he smiled as he drew a mouthful of smoke.

Lincoln Park slid by them on the left. The car