"Heavens! I left my hand-bag in my locker at the clubhouse. How stupid!" "Never mind." Orme saw that he must lose the marked bill after all. Regretfully he took it from his pocket. The woman had disappeared from the window, and now she came to the door and stood behind her husband. Wrapped in an old blanket, she made a gaunt figure, not unlike a squaw. As Orme walked up the two or three steps, she stretched her hand over her husband's shoulder and snatched the bill, examining it closely by the lamplight. "What's this writin' on it?" she demanded, fiercely. "Oh, that's just somebody's joke. It doesn't hurt anything." "Well, I don't know." She looked at it doubtfully, then crumpled it tight in her fist. "I guess it'll pass. Git a move on you, Simeon." The old man departed, grumbling, to the barn, and the woman drew back into the house, shutting the door carefully. Orme and Bessie heard the bolts click as she shot them home. "Hospitable!" exclaimed Bessie, seating herself on the doorstep. After a wait that seemed interminable, the old man came driving around the house. To a ramshackle buggy he had hitched a decrepit horse. They wedged in as best they could, the old man between them, and at a shuffling amble the nag proceeded through the gate and turned eastward. In the course of twenty minutes they crossed railroad tracks and entered the shady streets of the village, Bessie directing the old man where to drive. Presently they came to the entrance of what appeared to be an extensive estate. Back among the trees glimmered the lights of a house. "Turn in," said Bessie. A thought struck Orme. If Poritol, why not the Japanese? Maku and his friends might easily have got back to this place. And if the minister had been able to telephone to his allies from Arradale, they would be expecting him. "Stop!" he whispered. "Let me out. You drive on to the door and wait there for me." Bessie nodded. She did not comprehend, but she accepted the situation unhesitatingly. Orme noted, by the light of the lamp at the gate, the shimmer of the veil that was wound around her hat. "Give me your veil," he said. She withdrew the pins and unwound the piece of gossamer. He took it and stepped to the ground, concealing himself among the trees that lined the drive. The buggy proceeded slowly. Orme followed afoot, on a parallel course, keeping well back among the trees. At a certain point, after the buggy passed, a figure stepped out into the drive, and stood looking after it. From his build and the peculiar agility of his motions, he was recognizable as Maku. Orme hunted about till he found a bush from which he could quietly break a wand about six feet long. Stripping it of leaves, he fastened the veil to one end of it and tip-toed toward the drive. The Japanese was still looking after the buggy, which had drawn up before the house.