recognized them. They were Weber, the deputy chief, and the men who had
taken him to the lockup the night before, sent by the Prefect of Police
to follow up the scoundrel's tracks.

They had a brief interchange of words with the cab-driver, which seemed
to put them out; and they kept on gesticulating and plying him with fresh
questions while looking at their watches and consulting their road maps.

Don Luis went up to them. He was unrecognizable, with his head wrapped
in his aviation cap and his face concealed by his goggles. Changing
his voice:

"The birds have flown, Mr. Deputy Chief," he said.

Weber looked at him in utter amazement,

Don Luis grinned.

"Yes, flown. Our friend from the Ile Saint Louis is an artful dodger,
you know. My lord's in his third motor. After the yellow car of which
you heard at Versailles last night, he took another at Le
Mans--destination unknown."

The deputy chief opened his eyes in amazement. Who was this person who
was mentioning facts that had been telephoned to police headquarters only
at two o'clock that morning? He gasped:

"But who are you, Monsieur?"

"What? Don't you know me? What's the good of making appointments with
people? You strain every nerve to be punctual, and then they ask you who
you are! Come, Weber, confess that you're doing it to annoy me. Must you
gaze on my features in broad daylight? Here goes!"

He raised his mask.

"Arsene Lupin!" spluttered the detective.

"At your service, young fellow: on foot, in the saddle, and in mid air.
That's where I'm going now. Good-bye."

And so great was Weber's astonishment at seeing Arsene Lupin, whom he had
taken to the lockup twelve hours before, standing in front of him, free,
at two hundred and forty miles from Paris, that Don Luis, as he went back
to Davanne, thought:

"What a crusher! I've knocked him out in one round. There's no hurry. The
referee will count ten at least three times before Weber can say
'Mother!'"

* * * * *

Davanne was ready. Don Luis climbed into the monoplane. The peasants
pushed at the wheels. The machine started.

"North-northeast," Don Luis ordered. "Ninety miles an hour. Ten
thousand francs."

"We've the wind against us," said Davanne.

"Five thousand francs extra for the wind," shouted Don Luis.

He admitted no obstacle in his haste to reach Damigni. He now understood
the whole thing and, harking back to the very beginning, he was surprise