With a final, "Take it easy," to Arima, Orme now started down the road toward the lights of a house, a quarter of a mile ahead. He had it in mind to examine the papers, to find a clue to the name of the girl's father. The sentiment which had led him to refuse her offer to tell him everything must now be neglected. There might still be time to deliver the papers before midnight, but he did not dare delay. For one thing, he had only the haziest notion as to his whereabouts. Obviously he was somewhere west of Evanston, but that meant little in an unfamiliar country. He would have to find some conveyance. Not altogether without sympathy for his fallen enemy, he nevertheless felt that Arima had received no more than he deserved. There had been no hesitation about the different attacks made upon himself. He had provoked no assault unless by the fact that he had the marked bill in his possession. But the calmness with which Arima had endured his final defeat aroused admiration. After all, the Japanese had merely acted under orders. And now Orme's first thought was to get help for him. He came to the lights he had seen. They shone through the windows of a small farmhouse a few rods back from the road. A short avenue of poplars led to the door. In response to Orme's knock, the man of the house appeared--a German with sleepy eyes and tousled yellow hair. "There is an injured man down the road a way," said Orme. "Motor-car smash." "So?" "His leg is broken, I think. I made him as comfortable as I could. Can you get a doctor? The man will rest quiet till a doctor comes. He can't be moved very well." "_Ein_ doctor? _Ja. Es ist_ one _bei_ Niles Center. _Mein_ son vill go for him. Too bad! Too bad! Come in." "No, thank you," said Orme carelessly. "Vas you in _der_ accident?" "Do I look it?" Orme laughed. "_Nein_, you do not look it. _Ach!_ Dese autymobles! Dey makes much harm." "It _is_ too bad," admitted Orme. "He vas a millionaire, maybe. Dey comes by here so fast, going to Arradale. Hans! _Komm Hier! Ein_ man is gesmashed. _Du_ must for _der_ doctor go." He turned back to Orme. "_Mein_ son, he will go." But Orme had no ears for what the sympathetic German said. One word had made his heart leap. "Arradale!" There he was to have dined with Tom and Bessie Wallingham! He had forgotten them utterly. Were they still at the golf club? Possibly, and, in any event, if he could reach the club, he would be near a railroad. "How far is Arradale?" he asked. "_Halb_-miles. _Und_ vere did you say _der_ hurt man vas?" "A few hundred feet back there." Orme indicated the direction. "Can I reach Arradale by this road?" "Next turn--_rechts_. I will take de man some _schnapps_." "That will be good. His friends will make it right with you." "_Ach!_ Do not say so!"