Kenyon sat down and lit a cigarette. Under the light bulbs his face had a drawn, harassed look and the usually good-humored eyes had a baffled, eager glow in them. But in spite of this very evident mental unrest, the elegant distinction of his manner was unimpaired; and he brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve with solicitude. “Your two thousand dollars is going to come in rather handy,” remarked he thoughtfully. “It looks like a long hunt, and that sort of thing takes money.” “There is more where the two came from,” said Webster. “Don’t hesitate to call again.” “Thanks.” Kenyon puffed at the cigarette frowningly for a moment. “It means a waste of both money and time,” grumbled he, “and I suppose I’m next door to a fool for bothering with it. But it’s got on my nerves and I can’t drop it.” “The girl again,” mused Webster, regarding his friend with brooding glance. “He doesn’t know it himself, half the time; but it’s that confounded girl that’s doing it all.” They discussed the different phases of the case for some hours, and then Kenyon took his departure. It was a long way to his little hotel near the Battery, but he was in no humor for riding, and turning into Broadway he swung rapidly along down town. Lower Broadway is almost deserted after business hours, and when a man loomed up alongside of him at Canal Street and fell into step, Kenyon turned sharply. “Forrester!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I say, Kenyon, do you know you are a great fellow to set the pace,” complained the bulky youth. “I’ve been trying to overtake you ever since you crossed Fourteenth Street.” “I’m very sorry,” replied Kenyon, recovering his presence of mind instantly. “But I did not expect to see you.” The other looked at him in frank astonishment. “Why, what did you suppose had happened?” asked he, wonderingly. Kenyon laughed. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised at anything happening,” said he. “But I had specified nothing.” The other regarded him curiously. “Well,” he said, “I suppose everyone has his own way of doing things; but do you know, you rather puzzle me sometimes?” “I have no doubt of it,” Kenyon smiled. “You see it’s not just the way to which I’m accustomed. I go at things in a more direct fashion.” “As a rule I do myself. But this matter is different from most--so you must expect altered methods.” “No doubt you are right. But you do so keep me on the jump. And you don’t keep me posted. You leave me to discover things for myself. Now I had not the faintest notion that you had succeeded in the big matter until Farbush told me, about an hour ago.” “Things should work in their natural course,” replied the adventurer, coolly; “I don’t believe much in pæans of victory until the thing is thoroughly clinched.”