me near the street, some at a
distance back. Then the road again turned to the north, at a point where
less imposing streets broke in from the west and south.

"Stop at this corner," said the girl.

Orme threw on the brakes.

"We are in Evanston, on the Sheridan Road," she said, "and this street
cutting in from the south is Chicago Avenue."

"'Chi. A.'!" exclaimed Orme.

She had taken the paper from the pocket of her coat, and was scanning it
closely. "One hundred paces north and two hundred and ten east. 'T.' must
mean 'tree.'"

Orme jumped to the ground. He noticed that the university grounds were
cut off from the street by an iron fence. There was a gate at the corner
by which they had stopped. The gate was not closed. If it were customary
to shut it at night, there had been some neglect on this particular
evening.

"You'd better go in through the gate," said the girl, "and follow the
west fence northward for one hundred paces. Then turn east, at right
angles and go two hundred and ten paces--I suppose it must be paces, not
feet."

"Yes," said Orme. "That would be the natural way for a burglar in a hurry
to measure."

"I will move the car north on Sheridan Road a little way," she went on,
"so as not to be in the glare of this street light."

This was the first evidence she had shown of nervousness, and Orme
suddenly realized that enemies might be lurking among the trees.

"It might be well for you to take the electric hand-lamp," she added.
"It's in the kit-box, I think."

He looked in the kit-box, but the lamp was not there. He told her so.

"Maku may have stolen it," she said.

Orme slipped a heavy wrench into his pocket and closed the kit-box. With
the girl, he avoided any reference to the possible presence of the
Japanese among the trees, but knowing that he was no match for them
unarmed, with their skill in jiu-jitsu, he resolved to be in some measure
prepared.

He walked through the gate and began to pace northward, keeping close to
the fence and counting his steps. Meantime the car followed his course,
moving along the side of the road just west of the fence. Orme counted
his hundred paces north, then turned east.

He saw that the two hundred and ten paces which he now had to take would
carry him well over toward the lake. The girl evidently had not realized
how great the distance would be. She would be nearer him, if she turned
back to the corner and followed the Sheridan Road eastward to