ired of the waiter for Mr. Goldstein and Mr. William
Smith, but the man informed him that both gentlemen were out. "I
believe," added the waiter, "that Mr. Goldstein is leaving us this
evening or to-morrow, sir."

"Leaving!" I echoed as soon as the man had closed the door. "Shall I
follow?"

"No. It really isn't worth while," Ray replied, "at least not just at
present. Remain here and have a care of yourself, Jack."

What did he mean? We ate a hasty lunch, and then, mounting into the car,
my companion ordered the chauffeur to drive south again past Dulnan
Bridge to Duthil, where we turned up to the right and ascended the
thickly wooded hill of Lochgorm on that stony road that leads out upon
the desolate Muirs of Cromdale. After we had cleared the wood he ordered
the man to pull up, for the road was so bad. Descending, we climbed the
steep ascent to the summit of a hill, where, after sweeping the
surrounding country with a small pair of powerful glasses I carried, I
at last discerned the aeroplane heading westward some ten miles
distant.

Unfortunately, however, the clouds came down upon us, and we quickly
found ourselves enveloped in a gradually thickening Scotch mist, while
the aeroplane, soon but a faint grey shadow, quickly faded from our
gaze.

Ray Raymond was ever a dogged person. He decided to descend, and this we
did, passing over the other side of the hill for half an hour, progress
of course being slow on account of the clouds.

Presently a puff of cold wind came up out of the east, and patches of
dun-coloured moorland began to appear below through the rents of the
fast-breaking clouds; when presently our watchful eyes caught the dull
leaden gleam of a sheet of water about three miles ahead, which a look
at my map enabled me to recognise as Lochindorb.

And just as we were able to locate the spot we again saw the big
white-winged aeroplane as she swooped down to the surface of the loch,
upon which she floated swanlike and majestic.

"Well?" I asked, turning and looking him in the face.

"Well, Jack, I've seen it in flight just as you have," he said, "but
I've never yet approached it. I've had reasons for keeping away. After
to-day, however, there is no longer much necessity for hesitation."

"I hardly follow you, old chap," I declared, my eyes still fixed through
the glasses upon the aeroplane sailing along the surface of the distant
lake.

"Probably not," he laughed, "but you'll see the motive of