eon at the hotel there
ascertained that there were no visitors who might be either British
military officers or German spies.

In the gloomy, frosty afternoon we, a month after the affair down at
Maldon, sped up the Speyside through dark pine forests and snow-covered
moorland till we found ourselves in the long grey street of Kingussie,
where we halted at the Star Hotel, a small place with a verandah, very
popular in summer, but in winter deserted.

Leaving me to warm myself at the fire, Ray crossed to the telegraph
office to despatch a message, and afterwards I saw him enter a small
shop where picture post-cards were sold. For a quarter of an hour he
remained inside, and then went to another shop a few doors further down.

Afterwards he rejoined me, and as we remounted into the car I saw that
his face wore a dark, puzzled expression.

"Anything wrong?" I inquired, as we sped away through the firs towards
Loch Alvie and Aviemore.

"No," he replied. Then, after a pause, he asked, "You once used to ride
a motor-cycle, didn't you, Jack?"

I replied in the affirmative; whereupon he said that it would be
necessary for me to hire one, an observation which somewhat mystified
me. And for the next hour we roared along over the loose, uneven road
through Aviemore, where the chief hotel was, of course, closed, and on
over Dulnan Bridge, that paradise of the summer tourist; then turning to
the right past the post office, until we were soon "honk-honking" up the
wide main street of Grantown.

Here in summer and autumn the place is alive with tourists; but in
winter, with its tearing winds and gusty snowstorms, the little place
presents a very different appearance. The excellent "Grant Arms,"
standing back from the road at the further end of the town, is, however,
one of the few first-class hotels in the Highlands open all the year
round. And here we put up, both of us glad to obtain shelter from the
sleet which, since the twilight had faded, had been cutting our faces.

While I sat before the big smoking-room fire with a cigarette, after we
had been to our rooms to remove the mud from our faces, Ray was bustling
about the hotel, eagerly scanning the visitors' book, among other
things.

Our quest was a decidedly vague one, and as I sat staring into the
flames I confess I entertained serious misgivings.

When I went forth into the hall to find my friend, I was told that he
had gone out.

A quarter of an hour later he ret