ork.
He had bad luck hiring a burglar for you. He lost his head when he ran
away with another person's motor-car and had to hand the marked bill to a
country justice. He showed bad judgment when he tried to fool me with a
fancy lie. But you are the real bungler, Senhor Alcatrante. Any capable
diplomat could tell you that."

Alcatrante's yellow face grew white about the lips. His eyes flashed
balefully.

"Curse you!" he exclaimed. "You know more than is good for you. Take
care!"

Orme laughed in disgust. "Oh, drop this melodrama. I am not afraid of
cheap Machiavellis. In this country there are some crimes that are not
excused by high office."

The minister's teeth showed. "You shall see, my young friend."

"Doubtless. But let me tell you one thing; if anything happens to me, my
friends will know where to look for the criminal."

Alcatrante snarled. "Don't be too sure----"

"If necessary," continued Orme, "a word to certain persons as to the
commission for building warships--Five hundred thousand, is it not? by
the new arrangement--in gold----"

Alcatrante, in ungovernable rage, raised his light cane and struck. Orme
fended the blow with his arm, then wrenched the cane away and threw it
into the street. A swarm of passers-by gathered about them so quickly
that in a moment they were the center of a circle.

"You dunce," said Orme. "Do you want the police?"

"No," muttered Alcatrante, controlling himself with a great effort. "You
are right." He darted into the crowd at one side, and Orme, quick to take
the hint, disappeared in the opposite direction, crossing the street and
jumping into an empty cab, which had drawn up in anticipation of a fight.

"To the Rookery," he ordered, naming the first office-building that came
into his head.

"Sure," said the driver, and away they rattled.

A glance back showed Orme that the crowd was dispersing.

At a distance was Alcatrante. He had seen Orme's escape, and was looking
about vainly for another cab. But cabs are not numerous on North Parker
Street, and Orme, so far as he could tell, was not followed.

When his cab drew up at the busy entrance on La Salle Street, he found
his way to the nearest public telephone. The hour was close to five, and
he must discover quickly where he could find the girl. He called up the
Pere Marquette. "This is Mr. Orme," he explained to the clerk. "Have
there been any calls or messages for me?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. and Mrs. Wallingham calle