I had begun to fear that he might have rashly decided to jump into eternity from my bath-room when he reappeared with no mustache and a gray beard on his chin. Then, as if by chance, he took my hat and gray summer top-coat from the peg, where they had been hanging, said “Good-by,” and walked hurriedly out of my door and down the corridor. I had hesitated a little between my duty to Mexico and my duty to Norris, but I felt, and rightly, as I believe, that my client should come first, for I am rather human. But how about the reward? I thought. Well, that was none of my funeral. Shorn of his pull, he was now in the thorny path of the fugitive, and so I let him go. I tried to work, but work was out of the question for me that morning. I went for a walk, and on my return sat down with my paper. Among the items in its cable news was the following: _Whitfield Norris and his family are at the Grand Hotel in Rome. His daughter, Miss Gwendolyn, whose beauty and wealth, as well as her amiable disposition, have attracted many suitors, is said to be engaged to the young Count Carola._ What I said to myself is not one of the things which should appear in a book, and I wish only to suggest enough of it here to put me on record. Soon after one o'clock I was called to the 'phone by my secretary, who had followed Muggs when he left my room. At the time I gave my man his orders I did not know, of course, how my interview would turn out, and so, with a lawyer's prudence, I had decided to keep track of Muggs. When he settled down or left the city my young man was to report, and so: “Hello,” came his voice on the telephone. “Hello! What news?” I asked. “Our friend has just sailed on the _Caronia_ for England.” “All right,” I said, and then: “Hold on! Find out if there is a fast ship sailing to-night, and if so engage good quarters for two.” I sat down to get my breath. “How deft and wonderful!” I whispered. “It takes a good lawyer to keep up with him.” The man was on his way to Italy for another whack at Norris, and I had been thinking that he was broke. He would resume his philanthropic rôle in Italy and probably scare Norris to death. He had, of course, read that fool item in some paper. There was but one thing for me to do: I must get there first and meet him in the corridor of the Grand Hotel upon his arrival. Fortunately, my business was pretty well cleaned up in preparation for a long rest of which we had been talking. I telephoned to Betsey that we should probably go abroad that night and that she must get her trunks packed and on the way to the city as soon as possible. “But my summer clothes are not ready!” she exclaimed. “Never mind clothes,” I answered. “Breech-cloths will do until we can get to Europe, and there's any amount of clothing for sale on the other side of the pond. Chuck some things into a couple of trunks and stamp 'em down and come on. We'll meet here at six.”