Having nothing special to do between two and five, Barry decided to pit his wits against those of the two pursuers. The little game was interesting, not to say exciting, and consumed considerable time, the maneuvers taking Lawrence from the Battery to Fifty-ninth Street. It ended, however, with comparative satisfaction, and a few minutes before five Barry entered the Belmont on Forty-second Street with the pleasant conviction that he was unobserved for the first time in over twenty-four hours. The café was rather full as he entered it, but one or two of the cushioned wall seats were empty, and Lawrence promptly settled down comfortably, and proceeded to take things easily until his friend’s arrival. Instinctively he noticed that on his left was a party of three men, talking over the cloak-and-suit industry with an interest which left no room for any other thought in their minds. The compartment on the other side was occupied by a typical broker, absorbed in the financial page of an evening paper. Jock arrived about ten minutes late, and thumped down beside Lawrence with a force which shook the seat, and made the broker start nervously. "Hope you’ve got something to talk about that’ll pay for the way I tore over here," he grunted. "Never worked so hard in my life as I did this afternoon." "You don’t know what work is, you old bluffer," Barry laughed, as he tapped the bell. "What’ll you take?" Hamersley gave his order, and by the time it arrived Lawrence had broached the subject of the theater party. "Suits me fine," the big chap returned. "Better get seats for ’The Blue Moon,’ if you can. First night, you know, and that’s always more fun." "I’ll phone for seats as soon as I get back to the hotel," Barry agreed. "Suppose I ask Reggie Minturn and that chap he had with him? That makes a good number." "Good!", chuckled Hamersley. "Reckon Reg has sobered up by now. He was pie-eyed last night, though. See him?" Barry nodded with twinkling eyes. He was wondering what Reggie’s thoughts had been on discovering the five-hundred-dollar bill in his waistcoat pocket. "Yes, I ran across them," he returned. "They’d had about all they could hold, sure enough. Well, I’ll try and rope them in. I’ll have a car meet me at the Waldorf at a quarter to eight. That’ll give me time to pick you fellows up. Show doesn’t begin till eight-fifteen, I suppose?" "Nearer eight-thirty," Jock corrected, setting down his empty glass, and tapping the bell. Lawrence declined further refreshment, however, and they presently arose and made for the door. It would have been rather interesting for Barry to observe the behavior of the nervous broker after their departure. Their backs were no sooner turned than the financial page seemed to lose all interest for him. He leaned forward a bit, and peered after their retreating figures. Then, as they passed through the turnstile door, he sprang to his feet and hastened after them into the street.