“Where is the land?” asked Larry, carelessly. “Don’t you wish you knew?” sneered Peter. “I’m not telling everyone. But, if you like, I’ll speak to Mr. Perkins for you.” “You might,” said Larry, thinking it would be no harm to get as much information as possible. “I’d like to make some money.” During this time the two youths had been standing in front of the cigar store. Larry was thinking it was about time for him to move on, as he did not want to arouse Peter’s suspicions by too many questions, when a short, stout, and dark-complexioned man came hurrying around the corner. “I was afraid you’d gone,” the man said to Peter. “No, I was talking with a friend of mine,” replied the former copy boy on the _Leader_. “Are you through?” “Yes,” replied the man. “But I had no success.” Larry looked idly at the stranger. He noticed he wore gloves, and this, at first glance, struck him as peculiar, for the night was warm. Still this fact was not so surprising, and Larry’s mind was about to pass over the incident when his eye happened to catch a glimpse of something blue about the man’s hand. At first he thought it was the edge of a blue cuff. He looked again, more closely, and was startled to see that part of the glove was turned back at the wrist, and that the flesh which showed was deep blue in color. Larry was so startled by the sight, so alarmed at the unexpected appearance of the blue mark, bringing as it did to his mind a recollection of the safe robbery, that he was afraid the man might notice his surprise. But Peter’s acquaintance did not pay any attention to Larry. He seemed in a hurry, and anxious to be moving on. Larry began to wish that there might be some excuse for remaining longer in the company of Peter and the man. Yet he was afraid that if he did so, the stranger might suspect something, and hurry away before Larry had a chance to communicate with Mr. Newton. In order to be sure of the person when he saw him again Larry looked closely at him. He saw that he had piercing black eyes, a nervous manner, a small, black mustache which he pulled at from time to time, and there was a small scar under his left eye. “I’ll know him if I ever see him again,” thought Larry. The man seemed ill at ease. Suddenly he discovered that the edge of his glove was turned back. With a quick motion he buttoned the article up. As he did so he glanced sharply at Larry, as if anxious to know whether the lad had noticed anything. Larry pretended that his shoelace needed tying, and stooped over to avoid meeting the fellow’s look. As Larry straightened up he heard the stranger call out: “Come on, Peter. There’s our car,” and, before Larry could have stopped them, had he desired to, or thought it wise, they were running after it. “Well, that’s finding a man and losing him in a hurry,” thought Larry. “I wonder what I’d better do?”