Promptly at the expiration of ten minutes, the pugilist from Saginaw was shown in. He seemed all eagerness, and at Kenyon’s invitation immediately began his story. “As soon as I falls to it that I’m due for some information, why, I begins to play the fox myself, see? So the more this Stalker throws his gaze around, the hotter I’m on the Sherlock thing. After getting a lot of stuff together at different places, he hikes out and gets a train for South Norwalk. But he can’t shake me, so I’m about three seats behind him all the way down. Once or twice I notices him piking me off. It’s the bandages on my top that does it; he’s sure that he’s seen them before and is trying to locate them. But I keep the innocent look, and have my nose pointed into a magazine; it’s a plain thing to me that I’ve got him guessing. “He gets out at South Norwalk. I pike him on the platform waiting to see if I follow him. But I have the wisdom with me, and make my duck on the other side. He waits awhile; but as I’m not to be seen he starts straight off. He gets a buggy and I get another. About five miles outside the town he meets another party, quite a big stuff, who has another buggy, and hands over the things that he’s brought along. They talk for some time, and then his Stalkers turns his horse and starts back. I’m pulled off the road into a kind of wagon track, all this time, you see, so he drives by and goes on his way to the station, while I pull out and starts to follow up the other party.” “Excellent!” praised Kenyon. “It was only a chance,” continued the other. “I thought it might have something to do with the affair you were asking me about, you see. Well, at last the big guy comes to kind of a fine-looking old house standing away back in a little woods, and there he meets a girl with yellow hair that seems mighty glad to see him.” Kenyon and Austin exchanged looks, but the other continued: “They went inside and I lingered around for a while to see if there would be anything doing; but as all was quiet along that section of the pike, I drove along a little farther until I sights a young heck cutting wood. In a minute I was framed up against him, handing him the wise talk; and he told me all he knew--that is, all of it that I wanted to hear. The people at the old house in the woods had only come last night. As far as he knew a man and a woman arrived then--late. But this morning about a dozen men landed. He had no idea what was up; but he had a kind of hunch that it wasn’t quite level. So after that I got back to the station and caught a train for New York.” “It’s Forrester and the girl Anna,” said Austin, promptly. “Precisely.” Kenyon picked up a time-table and began studying it. “I rather think I’ll pay them a visit to-night.” “Good,” cried the other. “And shall I go with you?” “Glad to have you.” Kenyon then went to the ’phone and called up Webster. “What is it,” answered the young man from Chicago. “Another adventure. Are you game for it?”