there and left for Chile. Dragging each intermediate port with
the same caution, Frawley followed the trail to Valparaiso. Greenfield
had stayed a week and again departed.

Frawley at once took steamer for the Argentine, passed down the tongue
of South America, through the Straits of Magellan, and arrived at length
in the harbor of Buenos Ayres.

An hour later, as he took his place at the table in the Criterion
Gardens, a hand fell on his shoulder and some one at his back said:

"Well, Bub!"

He turned. A thin man of medium height, with blue eyes and yellow
complexion, was laughing in expectation of his discomfiture. Frawley
laid down the menu carefully, raised his head, and answered quietly:

"Why, how d'ye do, Bucky?"

III

"We shake, of course," said Greenfield, holding out his hand.

"Why not? Sit down."

The fugitive slid into a chair and hung his arms over the back, asking
immediately:

"What took you so long? You're after me, of course?"

"Am I?" Frawley answered, looking at him steadily. Greenfield, with a
twitch of his shoulders, returned to his question:

"What took you so long? Didn't you guess I'd come direct?"

"I'm not guessing," said Frawley.

"What do you say to dining on me?" said Greenfield with a malicious
smile. "I owe you that. I clipped your vacation pretty short.
Besides--guess you know it yourself--you can't touch me here. Why not
talk things over frankly? Say, Bub, shall it be on me?"

"I'm willing."

A waiter sidled up and took the order that Greenfield gave without
hesitation.

"You see, even the dinner was ready for you," he said with a wink; "see
how you like it." With a gesture of impatience he pushed aside the menu,
squared his arms on the table, and looked suddenly at his pursuer with
the deviltry of a schoolboy glistening in his eyes. "Well, Bub, I went
into your all-fired Canady!"

"So you did--why?"

"Well," said Greenfield, drawing lines with his knife-point on the nap,
"one reason was I wanted to see if Her Majesty's shop has such an
all-fired long arm--"

"And the other reason was I warned you to keep over the line."

"Why, Bub, you _are_ a bright boy!"

"It ain't me, Bucky," Frawley answered, with a shake of his head; "it's
the all-fired government that's after you."

"Good--first rate--then we'll have a little excitement!"

"You'll have plenty of that, Bucky!"

"Maybe, Bub, maybe. Well, I made a neat job of it, didn't I?"

"You did," adm