Puffing and panting, bruised and foot-sore, he sat down at the very place where Celia had stopped to have her shoes fastened, and mopped his purple brow, but there was triumph in his ugly eye, and after a few moment’s rest he trudged onward. That town over there ought to yield both conveyance and food as well as information concerning those he sought. He would catch them. They could never get away from him. He was on their track again, though hours behind. He would get them yet and no man should take his reward from him. Almost spent he came at last to the village, and ate a surprisingly large dish of beef and vegetable stew at the quaint little house where Celia and Gordon had breakfasted, but the old lady who served it to them was shy about talking, and though admitting that a couple of people had been there that morning she was non-committal about their appearance. They might have been young and good-looking and worn feathers in their hats, and they might not. She wasn’t one for noticing people’s appearance if they treated her civilly and paid their bills. Would he have another cup of coffee? He would, and also two more pieces of pie, but he got very little further information. It was over at the corner store where he finally went in search of something stronger than coffee that he further pursued his investigations. The loungers were still there. It was their only business in life and they were most diligent in it. They eyed the newcomer with a relish and settled back on their various barrels and boxes to enjoy whatever entertainment the gods were about to provide to relieve their monotonous existence. A house divided against itself cannot stand. This man’s elegant garments assumed for the nonce did not fit the rest of his general appearance which had been accentuated by his long, hot, dusty tramp. The high evening hat was jammed on the back of his head and bore a decided dent where it had rolled down the cinder embankment, his collar was wilted and lifeless, his white laundered tie at half mast, his coat awry, and his fine patent leather shoes which pinched were covered with dust and had caused a limp like the hardest tramp upon the road. Moreover, again the speech of the man betrayed him, and the keen-minded old gossips who were watching him suspiciously sized him up at once the minute he opened his mouth. “Saw anything of a couple of young folks walking down this way?” he enquired casually, pausing to light a cigar with which he was reinforcing himself for further travel. One man allowed that there might have passed such people that day. He hardly seemed willing to commit himself, but another vouchsafed the information that “Joe here driv two parties of thet description to Milton this mornin’--jes’ got back. Mebbe he could answer fer ’em.” Joe frowned. He did not like the looks of the thick-set man. He still remembered the forget-me-not eyes.