a still backwater among the tall
warehouses. Foster, putting his hand in his pocket as if to feel for
matches, touched the small Browning pistol he had brought. He was not
afraid of Graham, but somebody might come in. At length the man sealed
two envelopes and put them beside his writing-pad.

"If you cannot find Daly, you must bring the first back to me. When do
you sail?"

"I don't know yet; I haven't looked up the steamship companies'
notices," Foster answered, and as soon as he had spoken saw that he had
made a mistake.

He had led Graham to believe he was going at once; indeed, this was his
excuse for offering to take a message, but he remembered that in order
to get a good room on a fast boat it was necessary to book one's
passage some time in advance. He thought Graham had marked the slip,
although his face was expressionless.

"I don't want the letters carried about for long," he said.

"Certainly not," Foster agreed. "If I'm delayed, or can't get hold of
Daly as soon as I thought, I'll bring them back. However, I've kept
you from your business and must get off."

Graham did not move, and the letters were out of Foster's reach.

"You have got your instructions from Gascoyne and know what to do if
you have any trouble on your journey?"

Foster felt embarrassed. He did not know if Gascoyne was the man he
had gone to in Edinburgh, and durst not risk a fresh mistake. Besides,
it was possible that there was not such a person among the other's
friends and the question was a trap.

"No," he said boldly. "I can get all the instructions that are needful
when I meet Daly. Give me the letters."

"I think not. It would be better to wait until we hear what Gascoyne
has to say, since you haven't seen him as I thought. He may have
something to send with the other documents. Suppose you come back
about this time to-morrow."

Foster feared he was found out, and imagined that if he agreed, he
would find the office closed and Graham gone; unless perhaps the fellow
waited for him with one or two of his accomplices. Foster was certain
he had accomplices. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he
carried Alice Featherstone's glove and meant to get the letters.

"No," he said. "I'm willing to do you a favor, particularly as I want
something to show my friends in Canada that I brought the packet safe.
But I'm not going to put myself to much inconvenience. You have
written the letters. Let me hav