e car was turning Orme noted that Alcatrante had stopped short
and was watching them. It was some reason for surprise that he was not
hunting for a motor in which to follow.

Perhaps his plans were so completely balked that he was giving up
altogether. No, that would not be like Alcatrante. Orme now realized that
in all likelihood the minister had foreseen some such circumstance and
had made plans accordingly.

He was more and more inclined to believe that Alcatrante had but half
expected to keep him long imprisoned in Wallingham's office. Then what
had been the purpose underlying the trick? Probably the intention was to
make Orme prisoner for as long a period as possible and, in any event, to
gain time enough to communicate with Poritol and the Japanese and
whatever other persons might be helping in the struggle to regain the
papers. The probabilities were that Alcatrante had been using the last
two hours to get in touch with his friends.

And now those friends would be informed promptly that Orme and the girl
were setting out by motor. This analysis apparently accounted for
Alcatrante's nonchalance. Orme and the girl seemed to be escaping, but in
truth, if they approached their destination at all, they must run into
the ambuscade of other enemies. Then the nearer the goal, the greater the
danger.

As the motor slid smoothly northward on La Salle Street, Orme looked
back. Alcatrante had made no move. The last glimpse that Orme had of him
showed that slight but sinister figure alone on the sidewalk of the
deserted business street.

They crossed the Clark Street bridge. "Keep on out North Clark Street
until you can cross over to Lincoln Park," said Orme to the chauffeur.

The only indication that the order had been heard was a bending forward
of the bowed figure on the front seat.

Orme explained to the girl. "It will be better not to take the Lake Shore
Drive. They may be watching the Pere Marquette."

"You are right," she said. "As a precaution, we'd better not pass the
hotel."

"How surprised I was to find you waiting for me there last evening,"
mused Orme--"and how glad!"

"I never called on a man before," she laughed.

"I had made up my mind only a little while before," he continued, "to
stay in Chicago till I found you."

"I'm afraid that would not have been easy." She returned the pressure of
his hand, which had found hers. "If it hadn't been for those papers, we
might never have met."

"We were b