They were good natured crowds, to be sure; laughing, and cheering, and
making sallies of heavy wit; but they were in some way more intense
than he had ever seen before. There was no fear of war; there was,
rather, an adventurous spirit which seemed to fear that the affair
would blow over, as had so many affairs in the past, and all the
excitement go for nothing. That war, if it came to war, could last, no
one dreamed; it would be a matter of a few weeks, a few months, at the
most, until a thoroughly whipped Germany would retire behind the Rhine
to plan ways of raising the indemnity which outraged civilization would
demand. Conward elbowed his way through the crowds, smiling, in his
superior knowledge, over their excitement. Newspapers must have
headlines.

At his office he used a telephone. Then he walked to a restaurant,
where, after a few minutes, he was joined by a young woman. They took
a table in a box. Supper was disposed of, and the young woman began to
grow impatient.

"Well, you brought me here," she said at last. "You've fed me, and you
don't feed anybody, Conward, without a purpose. What's the
consideration?"

"Yes, I have a purpose," he admitted. "I'm pulling off a little joke,
and I want you to help me."

"You're some joker," she returned. "Who have you got it in for?"

"You know Elden--Dave Elden?"

"Sure. I've known him ever since that jolt put him out of business up
in your rooms, ever so many years ago. He was too rural for that
mixture. Still, Elden has lots of friends--decent friends, I mean."

"I'm rather sorry you know him," said Conward. "But--what's more to
the point--does he know you?"

"Not he. I guess he had no memory the next morning, and would have
made a point of forgetting me, even if he had."

"That's all right, then. Now I want you to get him down to your place
some night to be agreed upon--I'll fix the date later--and keep him
there until I call for him, with his _fiancee_."

"Some joke," she said, and there was disgust in her voice. "Who is it
on: Elden, me, or the girl?"

"Never mind who it's on," Conward returned. "I'm paying for it.
Here's something on account, and if you make a good job of it, I won't
be stingy."

He handed her a bill, which she kissed and put in her purse. "I need
the money, Conward, or I wouldn't take it. Say, don't you know you're
wasting your time in this one-horse town? You ought to get into the
big league. Your jokes woul