And then a queer little silence fell between them, an interval which seemed charged with the electricity of emotion. Despard looked at Aylmer. His friend was staring in his direction, but with a meditative, impersonal gaze which seemed to glance through--not at--him. And a smile grew faintly about his lips, though these, indeed, were pressed firmly together. He straightened his shoulders, he sighed. "Of course I start handicapped," he allowed. "But I can run a waiting race." And then he gave an involuntary start and a quick, curious glance at his companion. "We aren't competitors?" he asked suddenly. The crimson surged up under the tan on Despard's forehead. He laughed harshly. "The race was run and I was beaten, nine years ago," he said. "There will be no other entry, for me." He walked up to Aylmer and laid his hand upon his shoulder. "God knows, old chap, I wish you luck. But you carry weight, there's no denying that." Aylmer nodded again. "To carry weight one wants a stayer," he said. "And I can stay, Despard." The other nodded. "Yes," he said quietly. "You can stay. And as far as I know, the course is clear." His voice halted and stumbled queerly. "I ran straight, too, but I was fouled." And with a grip of Aylmer's hand he went out, to lay the balm of hope against the unhealed wound fate had dealt him, nine long years before. * * * * * As twenty-four hours later Aylmer climbed the steps from the water's edge to the pierhead of Tangier, a red fez was doffed from a close-cropped skull and out of a little crowd of hotel touts a Moor saluted with a welcoming smile. "A pleasant surprise, Sidi," he remarked affably. "There is no hunt abroad to-day." Aylmer shook his head gravely. "Not in thy meaning, Daoud," he answered. He moved closer to him. "A Spanish boat--the _Miramar_ came in at dawn?" he questioned. The Moor hesitated and then turned to shout to a companion. The man answered with a laconic affirmative. Daoud nodded. "Yes, Sidi. She came in. As you see, she has gone again." "Who landed from her?" Again Absalaam put queries to the assembled loafers. They answered obscenely but with directness. "A man came ashore with the captain and did not return with him," said the Moor. "Is this, then, an affair of importance?" "I will give fifty dollars to him who brings me face to face with that man," said Aylmer, quietly. "Let your fellows know this." Absalaam frowned ferociously and then laughed, a queer, high-pitched nasal laugh. "My fellows!" He swept his hand towards the pier loafers witheringly. "Does the Sidi think that I am of this noble company of--of dogs and eaters of dirt?" He laughed again, cheerfully this time. "After all, I have given the Sidi every reason to believe it. But it is not so. My work in Tangier sends me strange companions, but I am not of them. And there is no need that these should debauch themselves with your fifty dollars, Sidi. I will see to this thing!"