“I mean no offense, my man,” said he imperturbably; “and you must remember that I never so much as set eyes on you till yesterday; and what happened then didn’t predispose me in your favor, naturally. I mean simply that I have had just about dealings enough with this man Stroth to know that he plays a sure game. And it wouldn’t have been the first time for him to plant one of his own men right inside the enemy’s camp.” Now, on mature thought, there really was nothing that I should have taken umbrage at in this suspicion; and I certainly ought to have had better control of myself. But I felt myself fairly rise to boiling point. Words bubbled to me at this implication as to my being a turncoat. Those words never came out, though, for we skidded briskly around a corner, and were thrown sharply back to the moment and to action. In the intense concentration of the conversation, both of us had been more engrossed with each other than with our chase; though I did notice, out of the tail of my eye, that the driver of our car had shot back a quick glance over his shoulder at us inside. Then next second, as I say, we turned a corner--a sharp, right-angle whirl from the straight avenue both cars had been following. Pawlinson and I both leaned forward in interest, craning our necks for a view through the front glasses of the vehicle. “What in time does this mean?” cried he, as another vehicle shot by us, coming from the opposite direction. He started pounding on the glass. But our driver, for a moment, paid no attention. Instead, he swung the car toward the curb and brought up short before the door of a large house. We both sprang out to the sidewalk, and as we stood there our little chauffeur hastened to explain. “Them folks stopped their car and went in that there house,” said he, in a funny, staccato voice. “And the car’s gone back.” Instinctively Pawlinson and I started to mount the first step of the stoop, though reason might well have prompted another course. Then the little chauffeur enlightened us further. “And now I guess that’ll be about all to-day, gentlemen,” he chortled gleefully, as he slid up his goggles to his forehead. That kind of eye shield certainly is effective on occasion. For, just as the taxi jumped into speed, it left us there on the sidewalk in our first but most convincing recognition. “_Stevens!_” we fairly yelled, in unison. Then we looked at each other. CHAPTER VI. A WATER TRAIL. “A rather close organization, you see,” said Pawlinson finally, and with a placidity that was galling. “What do you mean?” I queried shortly and a bit irritably. The incident hadn’t improved the temper of either of us. “I mean that Stroth had everything pretty nicely arranged, didn’t he? For your reception, that is. Even to depositing you way out here, where----” “Hold on!” I snapped sharply. “You yourself were duped as well as I was, and we’ve got no time for words. What do you make out of this?”