wn country, one would
hardly expect----"

He broke off suddenly, and leaned forward.

The car had just entered Madison Square, at the junction of Broadway
and Fifth Avenue, south of 23rd Street. A Columbus Avenue street-car
had halted to allow traffic to pass, and a gray automobile which was
coming out of Fifth Avenue had been held up by a policeman stationed
there. Curtis's attention was caught by the color and shape of the
vehicle, and in the flood of light cast by the powerful lamps and
brilliant electric devices concentrated on that important crossing, he
obtained a vivid glimpse of the chauffeur's face.

"Devar," he said, and some electrical quality in his voice startled his
mercurial companion, "tell your man to overtake that car and run it
into the sidewalk. The driver is 'Anatole,' and it is our duty to stop
him!"

At that instant the policeman signaled the uptown traffic to move on.

CHAPTER XI

ONE O'CLOCK

Devar had the nimble wits of a fox, and the blood which raced in his
veins was volatile as quicksilver. The same glance which showed him
the gray automobile stealing softly across the network of car-lines of
one of the city's main thoroughfares revealed a roundsman crossing the
square.

"Friend Anatole may be heeled," he said. "Let's get help."

Leaning out, he shouted to Arthur, whose other name was Brodie:

"Pull in alongside the cop. I want to speak to him."

The chauffeur obeyed, and the policeman turned a questioning eye on the
car, thinking some idiot meant to run him down. Devar had the door
open in a second.

"Have you heard of the murder in 27th Street, outside the Central
Hotel?" he said, almost bewildering the man by his eager directness.

"Of course I have," came the answer, quickly enough.

"Well, the car mixed up in it is right ahead. There it is, making for
Fifth Avenue. Jump in! We'll explain as we go."

The roundsman needed no second invitation. Obviously, unless some
brainless young fool was trying to be humorous, there was no time to
spare for words. He sprang inside, and Devar cried to the surprised
chauffeur:

"Follow that gray auto. Don't kill anybody, but hit up the speed until
we are close behind it, and then I'll tell you what next to do."

Little recking what this order really meant, for its true inwardness
was hidden at the moment from the ken of those far better versed than
he in the tangle of events, Brodie changed gear and touched the
a