him in, telling Shag to meet him at a certain dock
where they would drop down the inlet and try for "snappers," young
bluefish, elusive, gamy and delicious eating.

"You have not yet found a place?" asked the colonel of the chauffeur, as
they rolled along.

"No, monsieur--none to my satisfaction, though I have been offered many.
One I could have I refused yesterday."

"You liked it with Mr. Carwell, then?"

"Truly the situation was in itself delightful. But I could not manage
the big car as he liked, and we had to part. There was no other way."

The detective narrowly observed the driver beside whom he sat. Jean did
not look well. He had much of the appearance of the "morning after the
night before," and his hand was not very steady as he shifted the gear
lever.

"How much longer have you to stay here, Jean?"

"About two weeks. My month will be up then."

"And then you go--"

"I do not know, monsieur. Probably to New York. That is a great
headquarters."

"So I believe."

"If monsieur should hear of a family that--"

"Yes, I'll bear you in mind, Jean. You are steady and reliable, I
presume?" and the colonel smiled.

"I have most excellent letters!" he boasted, and for the moment he
seemed to rouse himself from the sluggishness that marked him that
morning.

"I'll bear it in mind," said the colonel again.

But as they drove on, and Colonel Ashley noted with what exaggerated
care Jean Forette passed other cars--giving them such a wide berth that
often his own machine was almost in the ditch--the impression grew on
the detective that the Frenchman was not as skillful as he would have it
believed.

"He drives Like an amateur, or a woman out alone in her machine for the
first time," mused the colonel. "He'd never do for a smart car. Wonder
what ails him. He wasn't drunk last night by any means, and yet--"

They reached the town, and paused at the only place where there was any
congestion of traffic--where two main seashore highways crossed in the
center of Lakeside. Jean held the runabout there so long, waiting for
other traffic to pass, that the officer who was on duty called:

"What's the matter--going to sleep there?"

Then Jean, with a start, threw in the clutch and shot ahead.

"That's queer," mused the colonel. "He seems afraid."

The purchase of the shedder crabs was gone into care fully, and having
questioned the bait-seller as to the best location in the inlet, the
detective again got int