, while the pursuers had their man before them
always. If only he could have broken through into Greece, England would
have been easy. The only door open had been in the East. It seemed
incredible that he should be standing in this room, but three hours from
his goal.

America! The land of the free and the brave! And the irony of it was
that he must seek in America the only friends he had in the world.
All the Englishmen he had known and loved were dead. He had never made
friends with the French, though he loved France. In this country alone
he might successfully lose himself and begin life anew. The British were
British and the French were French; but in this magnificent America they
possessed the tenacity of the one and the gayety of the other--these
joyous, unconquered, speed-loving Americans.

He took up the overcoat. Under the light it was no longer black but
a very deep green. On both sleeves there were narrow bands of a still
deeper green, indicating that gold or silver braid had once befrogged
the cuffs. Inside, soft silky Persian lamb; and he ran his fingers over
the fur thoughtfully. The coat was still impregnated with the strong
odour of horse. He cast it aside, never to touch it again. From the
discarded small coat he extracted a black wallet and opened it. That
passport! He wondered if there existed another more cleverly forged. It
would not have served an hour west of the Hindenburg Line; but in the
East and here in America no one had questioned it. In San Francisco they
had scarcely glanced at it, peace having come. Besides this passport the
wallet contained a will, ten bonds, a custom appraiser's receipt and
a sheaf of gold bills. The will, however, was perhaps one of the most
astonishing documents conceivable. It left unreservedly to Capt. John
Hawksley the contents of the wallet!

Within three hours of his ultimate destination! He knew all about great
cities. An hour after he left the train, if he so willed, he could lose
himself for all time.

From the bottom of the kitbag he dug up a blue velours case, which after
a moment's hesitation he opened. Medals incrusted with precious stones;
but on the top was the photograph of a charming girl, blonde as ripe
wheat, and arrayed for the tennis court. It was this photograph he
wanted. Indifferently he tossed the case upon the centre table, and it
upset, sending the medals about with a ring and a tinkle.

The man in the next room heard this sound, and his