e fresh bill in the
pocket-book, and laid the pocket-book on the table.

"See here," said Orme, still prone, "what's the meaning of all this?"

"Don't say." The Japanese smiled. He went over to the door. "Come," he
said. The man astride Orme released his hold and sprang to his feet. Like
a flash, both the Japanese disappeared.

Orme jumped up. Seizing his pocket-book and his hat, he darted after his
assailants. At the street entrance to the tunnel, he looked quickly in
both directions, but his men were not in sight.

Pursuit was futile. Slowly he turned back. He thought of notifying the
police, but, after all, he was none the worse off--except for his promise
to Poritol and Alcatrante, now involuntarily broken. He must explain to
them as best he could. The marked bill had been of no consequence to him
except as a focus of adventure. And he had had about as much adventure as
he could expect for one evening.

But the secret of the bill still tantalized him. Blindfolded, he had
played in a game at which the others saw. It seemed unfair--as if he had
some right to know the meaning of all these mysterious incidents. Why had
Poritol wanted the bill so badly? Why had the desire to possess it driven
the two Japanese to such extreme measures?

Orme crossed the court and entered the lobby. The clerk looked at him
curiously.

"Mr. Orme," he said, "there is a young lady in the reception-room,
waiting to see you."

"Me?" Orme looked his surprise.

"Yes, sir. She gave no name."

"Has she been waiting long?"

"Nearly an hour."

Without further questioning, Orme turned to the door of the little
green-and-gold room. At the threshold he paused in bewilderment. Arising
to meet him, smiling frankly, was the girl of the car.

CHAPTER IV

THE GIRL OF THE CAR

"Oh," she said, with a little gasp of recognition, "are _you_ Mr. Orme?"
Her cheeks flushed softly.

He bowed; his heart was beating furiously, and for the moment he dared
not try to speak.

"Then we do meet again," she exclaimed--"and as usual I need your help.
Isn't it queer?"

"Any service that I"--Orme began haltingly--"of course, anything that I
can do----"

The girl laughed--a merry ripple of sound; then caught herself and
changed her manner to grave earnestness. "It is very important," she
said. "I am looking for a five-dollar bill that was paid to you to-day."

Orme started. "What? You, too?"

"I, too? Has--has anybody else----?" Her gravity