"House about four miles out. Large. White. Pillared entrance. Yard. Trees. Shrubbery. French Windows. Good get-a-way. Nursery, second floor, over library, east side. Fruit tree near with convenient ladder. Classy servants. Child three years old. Name, Doris. Mother dead. Nurse in charge. "Housemaid recently married chauffeur. Received check from Wayne for wedding present. Servants plan private blow-out to-night to celebrate the affair. Wayne will address War Veterans at regimental rally in town. After child's abed nurse will go down stairs to attend wedding banquet. Zero hour, 9 P.M. Little Billie on the job. Park car, engine running, cedar clump, east side. Don't fail. If it rains, all the better." Bailey found the "memo" waiting for him when he asked for his mail at the hotel. It was in a sealed envelope. The clerk said a small colored boy had brought it. Bailey thanked the clerk and withdrew to the privacy of his room to read the missive. After doing so he leaned back in his chair and puffed vigorously at his cigar. At last, he was about to even up his score with Harris Wayne. The thought pleased him. It made his lip draw back from his teeth, and brought his mustache down over it with an expression so sinister and revengeful that if Harris Wayne, formerly of the United States Marine Corps, had seen it, he would have been tempted to kick Mr. Bailey a good deal harder than he had kicked him the day he found him appropriating another marine's wallet in a Y.M.C.A. hut in France. "I told Wayne then I'd make him pay for it, and now he's going to do it," exclaimed Bailey aloud, bringing the legs of his chair down to the floor with an emphatic thud. "He made me lose money that day, damn him! That leatherneck was bumped off two hours afterward and somebody else got the dough. I've waited years for this chance. Wayne didn't hesitate to turn me over to the M.P.'s. Now it's my turn." He paced the floor a few times then put on his hat and went out to a public telephone booth. The number he called was located in a city some little distance away. When given the connection he spoke briefly. "Hello, Louis. This is Jim. Is the car ready?--All right, send her down right away. Don't bring her into town. Hold her at the edge of the woods just beyond the tobacco patch north of the Help-U Gas Station. I'll meet you there around seven o'clock. Watch out, now. If anything goes blooey you'll be out of luck." The day that little Stephen made his forlorn exit from Peter Grimes' farm was also the day of the regimental reunion of war veterans at the county seat. Harris Wayne was not a member of that regiment but he had a brilliant over seas' record and, moreover, was the wealthiest and most influential land owner in that section of the country. As a matter of courtesy and also because of his personal popularity he had been invited to address the assembly after their banquet that evening.