And now was his chance to escape on the night boat for Montreal, there to connect with railway transportation to New York. His beard and mustache of a few weeks' growth now needed a trim, as he decided to continue wearing them. At Montreal these matters were attended to, likewise the purchase of several suits of English cut, and a bag of the tourist variety, which held much, and could be plastered with foreign labels of his own selection. All this he had done during his one day in the city, and his tickets were purchased for gay old New York. From that time on he haunted the hotel bar and filled himself to the brim. As his train crept slowly out of the Montreal station in the late afternoon, Parkins' one fear was of the U. S. revenue officers across the border, who might search his bag and seize the six bottles hidden among its contents. But one flask was kept in his overcoat pocket and long before midnight its contents were gone. Along in early hours of the following morning, about the usual time for the bath and shower, Updyke in New York heard a rap on his door. A telegram was slipped under it, as the big fellow tumbled out to see who was there. He picked up the message, and as he tore off the envelope, his mind reverted to the night of all nights that would follow this day. For that reason he eyed the yellow sheet with apprehension. It was from his Montreal Agency, and as he read its contents Updyke's eyes blazed with fury. "Man with new growth black beard and mustache boarded New York Central train one thirty this afternoon stop arrived on night boat from Quebec stop bought new outfit clothes stop also large english bag and foreign labels stop had whiskers and mustache trimmed Van Dyck at Queens hotel stop paid all bills in Canadian gold stop changed five hundred in gold into american bank notes stop think he is your man act quick stop signed Updyke Agency." Updyke threw on a dressing gown and methodically started the ball to rolling. His night man was just on the point of turning the office over to the day manager when the voice of the boss came through. Jackson, the night manager, answered the call and was given some quick instructions. "Is Bloss there yet?" Updyke asked, sharply. "Yes--just getting ready to leave." "Give him a wire so he can listen in--also a stenographer." "All set," said Jackson. "Parkins has escaped unless I am badly mistaken. Listen to this telegram from Montreal"--then followed the contents of the message in a voice of staccato precision. "Now, go to it. No doubt about this fellow being Parkins, is there?" "Not here," answered Bloss receiving a nod from Jackson.