"I'd like to see him if I can. I'm thinking of investing in some real estate in this neighbourhood, and I've been looking at a couple of houses that I was told he was agent for." "I'll call him--wait a minute." David went into the living room, and at once returned. "Mr. Rogers will be right in," he said. "Thanks." The man turned his pinkish face about the room. "Cosy little office you've got, for this part of town," he remarked, with an air of speaking pleasantries to kill time. "Yes--we think so." "How long's Mr. Rogers been interested in real estate in this neighbourhood?" "I've been with him for less than a year, so I don't exactly know. But I believe about eight or nine years." "In the same business before then?" But the entrance of Rogers at that instant saved David a reply. The caller, who had sat down, rose and held out his hand. "Is this Mr. Rogers? Harris is my name--William Harris." Rogers, as he came up, laid hold of the back of a chair. He did not see Mr. Harris's hand. "I'm glad to meet you," he returned in his low voice. "Won't you sit down?" The three took chairs, and the next hour was filled with talk about the houses Mr. Harris had examined. Mr. Harris was very eager for the buildings, and David became excited at the prospect of the agent's commission that would come from the sale. But Rogers was quiet and reserved as always--answering all questions fully, save a few casual personal queries which he evaded. When Mr. Harris went away he said in so many words that the deal was as good as settled, except for a small difference in the price which would bother them little. The instant the office door closed upon Mr. Harris David turned eagerly to Rogers, who was sitting motionless in his chair. "Won't that be a windfall though if he takes those houses!" he cried. "Your commission will be at least two thousand dollars!" There was no tinge of enthusiasm in Rogers's pale cheeks. He did not speak at once, and when he did he ignored David's exclamations. "Did you notice, Aldrich," he said in a strained voice, "that I avoided taking his hand when he offered it at first and again when we parted?" "No. Why?" "I was afraid." "Afraid?" repeated David, puzzled. "What of?" "I shook hands with Bill Halpin--and you know what he found out." David stepped nearer to Rogers, and saw in his eyes the look of hunted fear. "I don't understand," he said slowly. "Mr. Harris may be a _bona-fide_ dealer in real estate--but fifteen years ago he was one of the cleverest detectives on the New York police force. I recognised him the instant I saw him. He helped arrest me once." David sank slowly to a chair. "You don't say so!" he ejaculated. He stared for several moments at Rogers's thin face, on which he could now see the exhaustion of the straining interview. "Do you think he can possibly be on your trail?--and if so, what for?"