ng the gaze of a ferocious looking, military appearing little man
at a table near by. To his surprise, the little man's fierce stare
maintained its peculiarly personal intentness until he, himself, was
compelled to withdraw his own gaze in some little confusion and
displeasure. His waiter appeared at his elbow with the change.

"Who the devil is that old man at the table there?" demanded young Mr.
King loudly.

The waiter assumed a look of extreme insolence. "That is Baron Dangloss,
Minister of Police. Anything more, sir?"

"Yes. What's he looking so hard at me for? Does he think I'm a
pickpocket?"

"You know as much as I, sir," was all that the waiter said in reply.
King pocketed the coin he had intended for the fellow, and deliberately
left the place. He could not put off the feeling, however, that the
intense stare of Baron Dangloss, the watch-dog of the land, followed him
until the corner of the wall intervened. The now incensed American
glanced involuntarily across the square in the direction of Spantz's
shop. He saw three mounted soldiers ride up to the curb and hail the
armourer as he started to close his doors. As he sauntered across the
little square his gaze suddenly shifted to a second-story window above
the gun-shop.

The interesting young woman had cautiously pushed open one of the
shutters and was peering down upon the trio of red-coated guardsmen.
Almost at the same instant her quick, eager gaze fell upon the tall
American, now quite close to the horsemen. He saw her dark eyes expand
as if with surprise. The next instant he caught his breath and almost
stopped in his tracks.

A shy, impulsive smile played about her red lips for a second, lighting
up the delicate face with a radiance that amazed him. Then the shutter
was closed gently, quickly. His first feeling of elation was followed
instantly by the disquieting impression that it was a mocking smile of
amusement and not one of inviting friendliness. He felt his ears burn as
he abruptly turned off to the right, for, somehow, he knew that she was
peeping at him through the blinds and that something about his tall,
rangy figure was appealing to her sense of the ridiculous.

You will see at once that Truxton King, imaginative chap that he was,
had pounced upon this slim, attractive young woman as the only plausible
heroine for his prospective romance, and, as such, she could not be
guilty of forwardness or lack or dignity. Besides, first impressions