the
accents of Authority and the tapping of an imperative pencil on the
window-ledge.

"Say, I'm busy. Which are you going to take now, de luxe room or--"

"Both!" With the dexterity of a stage conjurer Blue Serge whipped a
bill from his pocket and thrust it beneath the wicket, not for an
instant detaching his gaze from Sally. "And quick," said he; "I'm
in a hurry!"

Grunting resentfully, Authority proceeded to issue the reservations,
thus affording Sally, constrained to return without a tremor the
steadfast regard of her burglar, time to appreciate the lengths to
which bravado had committed her. And though she stood her ground
without flinching, her cheeks had taken on a hue of bright crimson
before Blue Serge, without troubling to verify them, seized tickets
and change and turned squarely to her.

"Now that's settled," he inquired amiably, "what next?"

The better to cover her lack of a ready answer, she made believe to
consult the mellow orb of the four-faced clock that crowns the bureau
of information.

"The Owl train leaves when?" she asked with a finely speculative air.

"One o'clock."

"Then we've got over an hour and a half to wait!"

"How about a bite of supper? The station restaurant is just
down-stairs--"

"Thank you," she agreed with a severe little nod.

Lugging his bag, he led the way with the air of one receiving rather
than conferring a favour.

"Curious how things fall out," he observed cheerfully; "isn't it?"

"Yes--"

"I mean, your popping up like this just when I was thinking of you.
Coincidence, you know."

"Coincidences," Sally informed him consciously, "are caviar only to
book critics. There's nothing more common in real life."

He suffered this instruction with a mildly anguished smile.

"That's true, I presume, if one knows anything about real life. I
don't go in for realistic novels you see, so can't say. But you're
right one way: it isn't anything extraordinary, come to consider it,
that you and I, both headed for Boston, should run into each other
here. By the way," he added with a casual air, "speaking of
coincidences, it sort of triple-plated this one to have your friend
from Central Office hanging round so handy, didn't it? If he's in
sight, why not be a sport and tip me off?"

"I don't see the necessity," Sally returned, biting her lip--"yet."

"Not from your point of view, perhaps--from mine, yes. Forewarned is
fortunate, you know."

"I dare say."

"You won'