sh before the United States Hotel, Stull decided to
descend there. Several men in the passing crowds bowed to Brandes;
one, Norton Smawley, known to the fraternity as "Parson" Smawley, came
out to the curb to shake hands. Brandes introduced him to Rue as
"Parson" Smawley--whether with some sinister future purpose already
beginning to take shape in his round, heavy head, or whether a
perverted sense of humour prompted him to give Rue the idea that she
had been in godly company, it is difficult to determine.

He added that Miss Carew was the daughter of a clergyman and a
missionary. And the Parson took his cue. At any rate Rue, leaning from
her seat, listened to the persuasive and finely modulated voice of
Parson Smawley with pleasure, and found his sleek, graceful presence
and courtly manners most agreeable. There were no such persons in
Gayfield.

She hoped, shyly, that if he were in Gayfield he would call on her
father. Once in a very long while clergymen called on her father, and
their rare visits remained a pleasure to the lonely invalid for
months.

The Parson promised to call, very gravely. It would not have
embarrassed him to do so; it was his business in life to have a
sufficient knowledge of every man's business to enable him to converse
convincingly with anybody.

He took polished leave of her; took leave of Brandes with the faintest
flutter of one eyelid, as though he understood Brandes' game. Which he
did not; nor did Brandes himself, entirely.

* * * * *

They had thirty miles to go in the runabout. So they would not remain
to dinner. Besides, Brandes did not care to make himself conspicuous
in public just then. Too many people knew more or less about him--the
sort of people who might possibly be in communication with his wife.
There was no use slapping chance in the face. Two quiet visits to the
races with Ruhannah was enough for the present. Even those two visits
were scarcely discreet. It was time to go.

Stull and Brandes stood consulting together beside the runabout; Rue
sat in the machine watching the press of carriages and automobiles on
Broadway, and the thronged sidewalks along which brilliant, animated
crowds were pouring.

"I'm not coming again, Ben," said Brandes, dropping his voice. "No use
to hunt the limelight just now. You can't tell what some of these
people might do. I'll take no chances that some fresh guy might try to
start something."