Patsy took a chance and moved closer, concealed only by a lady and gentleman, whose next movements might disclose him to the very persons of whom he was trying to keep out of sight. Finally Masson reached the spot where the two men were standing. “This dog is not a prize winner,” he said, to the one nearest him, who proved to be the one whose features were somewhat familiar to Patsy. “No; he didn’t win anything,” replied the man. Then, in a lower tone of voice, Masson said: “I want to see you.” “When?” replied the attendant, in the same tone. “Right away.” “Where?” “Follow me out and to a place I shall go to.” “Say, boss,” replied the other, “if we skip the place now we lose our bones for the four days’ hustle.” “Never mind that. I’ll make it good. You must get out to me. There’s trouble.” “All right,” said the other, who had not yet spoken. “If you make good, what you say goes. But it’s a ten-case note for each of us.” “All the same. Get off those clothes and get to me.” As the two made a movement as if to go away from the spot, Patsy fell back to a point where he could observe without being seen. The two went off toward the rear of the hall, and Eric Masson sauntered off toward the main entrance. There he took a stand as if he was merely watching the passing show. At once Patsy took in the situation. The men had gone to change their clothes, and Masson was waiting for them to return. “I must follow them,” muttered Patsy. “To do so I must make a change, and I’ve got to make it quick.” Near where he stood was a door which he thought led into the offices of the kennel club. He dodged through it to find he was correct in his surmise as well as to face the prominent banker. “What now, Patsy?” asked the banker. “Only a little makeup,” replied Patsy. “I think I’m on to something, and am going to try it.” Much to the interest and amusement of the banker, he drew from his pocket a wig, which he slipped on, and a false mustache, using some color to change his face and eyebrows. “Oh, for another coat and hat!” cried Patsy, casting longing eyes on those worn by the banker. “I’ll swap with you, Patsy,” cried the banker, laughing heartily, as he threw off his coat. The exchange was quickly made, and as Patsy dashed out, the banker, following, cried out: “I shan’t swap back, Patsy, because as it stands now I got the best of the trade.” Patsy laughed, but made no reply. Hurrying out, he found Masson still in the place where he left him. He passed close to him, and went into the hallway, standing just within the gate, waiting until Masson appeared. As this person showed up, Patsy sauntered through the gate and down to the outer doors. Looking back, he saw the two men, now in their street clothes, following at a respectful distance. Patsy went out on the sidewalk. When Masson reached it, he turned toward Twenty-seventh Street and rounded the corner.