re and there among them. Another bunch; she was
not in it, and he began to feel a trifle nervous. Now came the
stragglers and he grew bewildered. Finally, the last one--a woman hove
in sight. With renewed hope he scanned her approach. It was not Grace!
His brain was in a whirl. What could have happened? Where was she?
Again he jerked out the telegram.

"Meet me Forty-second Street, New York, at three," he read half-aloud.
"Nothing could be plainer," he mused in perplexity. "No train at three;
another at--she must be on a later one."

"What time is the next Chicago train due?" he inquired anxiously at the
Information Bureau.

"Five-thirty, sir," politely answered the official.

"Five-thirty!" he repeated disgustedly.

Again the telegram was brought out and this time shown.

"On what road did you expect the lady?" was the question put with
well-simulated interest that every few minutes was practised on
different individuals.

"Road?" Hugh stared blankly at his questioner. "What road?" Then, like a
flash, the solution of the problem pierced his brain.

"What an ass I am!" he burst out, and added sheepishly: "West Shore!"

Purposely avoiding the other's face for confirmation of his
self-depreciatory exclamation, together with its unmistakable expression
of professional tolerance for the imbecilities of mankind, Hugh looked
at the time. It was two-thirty. Tearing out of the station, he hailed
a cab.

Inside, and moving fast, he winced a little as he thought of his late
strictures on girls and their ways. What a shame to have abused Grace,
when he himself had told her to take the Wabash as essential to their
plan. What a blooming idiot he was! New York in the telegram meant, of
course, the New York side of the river. He recovered his equanimity; the
world was serene again.

With a sharp pull the cabman brought up at the ferry and Hugh took his
stand among those waiting for the boat to disgorge its load of
passengers.

At that moment a thought struck him, and acting on it, he called out:

"Hi! porter!"

"Here, sir!"

"Where can I get some note paper?"

"All right, sir!" and in an instant a pad of paper was forthcoming.

Hugh took out his pencil and wrote a brief note. Then, in a low voice,
he said:

"Here, porter! I want you to do something for me."

"Yes, sir!"

"I'll make it worth your while, but I won't hare you attending to any
one else--understand?"

The porter demonstrated with a nod his perf