luck!"

They shook hands and turned their backs on each other with sailor
repression in the matter of the emotions.

The young man went on his way, wondering in numbed despair how he could
have left Alma Marston with merely a curt word of farewell.

Mayo lurked that evening in the purlieus of Jersey City, and entered the
metropolis after midnight on a ferryboat which had few passengers and
afforded him a dark corner where he was alone. He found lodgings in
humble quarters on the East Side.

In the morning he nerved himself to the ordeal of appearing in the
streets. His belief in his own innocence made his suffering greater as
he waited for the clap of a heavy hand on his shoulder and the summons
of an officer's voice. He knew that the eyes of Uncle Sam are sharp and
his reach a long one. He had firm belief in the almost uncanny vigilance
of government officers. He was rather surprised to find himself at last
in the outer office of Marston & Waller.

He sat down on a bench and waited for a time in order to regain
his self-possession. He wanted to control features and voice before
accosting one of the guardians of the magnate. But the espionage of the
attendants did not permit loiterers to remain long in that place without
explanation. A man tiptoed to him and asked his name and his business.

"My name doesn't matter," said Mayo. "But I have important business
with Mr. Marston. If you will tell him that the business is most
important--that it is something he ought to know, and that--"

"You haven't any appointment, then?"

"No."

"Do you think for one moment that you can get in to see Mr. Marston
without giving your name and explaining beforehand the nature of your
business?"

"I hoped so, for it is important."

"What is it?"

"It's private--it's something for Mr. Marston."

"Impossible!" was the man's curt rejoinder. He went back to his post. In
a few moments he returned to Mayo. "You mustn't remain here. You cannot
see Mr. Marston."

"Won't you take in a message from me? I'll explain--"

"Explain to me. That's what I'm here for."

Telling that cold-blooded person that this visitor was the broken master
of the _Montana_ was out of the question. To mention the case of the
_Montana_ to this watchdog was dangerous. But Mayo dreaded to go back to
the street again.

"I'll stay here a little while and perhaps I can--" he began.

"If you stay here without explaining your business I'll have you
escorted