sombre and uncouth, that tidal water remained for him the model of all
other streams. He was only partially consoled by the fact that five
cents brought him across to the Canadian shore, where he might inhale
deep breaths of air that fluttered the Union Jack.

Stranleigh, confident that he had shaken off pursuit, enjoyed himself in
a thoroughly democratic manner, sailing up stream and down, on one of
the pearl white passenger boats, that carried bands which played the
immortal airs of Sousa.

He began his second week in Detroit by engaging a motor to make a tour
of the motor manufacturing district. He was amazed at the size and
extent of the buildings, and recognised, among the names painted
thereon, the designation of cars that were familiar to him. He had come
to believe Parkes such an untruthful person, that he had taken a big
discount from everything he said, and so was unprepared to find the
reality far in advance of the description. However, he saw no sign
bearing the name of the Sterling Motor Company, so asked his chauffeur
to convey him thither. The chauffeur, pondering a moment, was forced to
admit that he had never heard of the firm.

"Then be so good," requested Stranleigh, "as to drop into one of these
offices and enquire. It is likely that someone will know the names of
all other companies in the same line of manufacture."

"I don't doubt," said the chauffeur, "that they know all about it, but
it wouldn't be business to direct a possible customer to a rival firm."

Stranleigh smiled.

"I have not been in this country so long as you have," he said, "but I
think you will find an American business man ignores rivalry when he has
an opportunity of doing an act of courtesy."

The chauffeur drew up at a huge factory and went inside. Returning very
promptly, he informed his fare that they knew of no Sterling Motor
Company, but there was in Woodbridge Street a young engineer named J. E.
Sterling, who, they believed, made motor-cars.

"J. E. Sterling! That's the man I want. Where is Woodbridge Street?"

"Right away down town; next door, as you might say, to the river front."

"Very good; we'll go there. Just drive past Mr. Sterling's place, for if
I do not like the look of it I shall not go in."

By and by they turned into Woodward Avenue, and raced down town at a
speed which Stranleigh thought must surely exceed the legal limit, if
there was one. Woodbridge Street proved to be crowded with great
lumber