He went through the unconscious man's pockets. There was no envelope such as he was looking for, but he did find a folded slip of paper which he thrust into his own pocket. A discovery that interested him, though it was not now important, he made by the light of a second match. It was the marked five-dollar bill. He would have liked to take it as a souvenir, if for no other reason, but time was short and Maku, who evidently was not seriously hurt, showed signs of returning consciousness. Another occurrence also hastened him. A man was strolling along the lake shore, not far away. Orme had not seen his approach, though he was distinctly outlined against the open background of lake and sky. The stranger stopped. The striking of the two matches had attracted his attention. "Have you lost something?" he called. "No," Orme replied. The man started toward Orme, as if to investigate, and then Orme noticed that outlined on his head was a policeman's helmet. To be found going through the pockets of an unconscious man was not to Orme's liking. It might be possible to explain the situation well enough to satisfy the local authorities, but that would involve delays fatal to any further effort to catch the man with the envelope. So he jumped to his feet and ran northward, then turned to the west. Circling about, he made for the gate at which he had entered. His pursuer either took the wrong lead in the darkness or stopped to examine Maku, if or when Orme went through the gate and doubled back, outside the fence, to the car, there was no sound of steps behind him. He jumped to the chauffeur's seat. "Well?" inquired the girl, eagerly. "Too late," said Orme. "I'm sorry. I caught Maku, but the man with the envelope got away." She laid a hand on his arm. "Are you hurt?" There was unconcealed anxiety in her voice. To say the things he yearned to say! To be tender to her! But he controlled his feelings and explained briefly what had happened, at the same time throwing on the power and driving the car slowly northward. "I only know that the fellow ran northward," he said. "He may have worked back or he may have gone on. He may have climbed another tree and waited." By this time they had come to the northern limits of the grounds, but he had seen no one. Suddenly the girl exclaimed "Listen!" Orme stopped the car. Somewhere from the distance came a faint hum. "Another car!" he muttered. "Yes," she said. "Oh, but I can do no more. I am tired, Mr. Orme. We cannot catch that car, even if it does hold the man we want--and there is no way of being sure that it does." "If there is any place to leave you, I will go after him alone." He had turned the car as he spoke and was sending it slowly southward. "No," she said wearily. "We--you must do no more to-night. You have been so good, Mr. Orme--to help me in a matter of which I could tell you almost nothing. I won't even try to thank you--except by saying that you have understood."