get back to New York at once, and as speedily as possible!
The shining face of a street clock that a short time before he had
looked at, admonished him there were no moments to spare, if he would
carry out his plan, his headstrong purpose--to verify or disprove a
certain wild theory--which would take him where, lead to what? No
matter! Above, between black shadows of tall buildings, he saw a star,
bright, beautiful. Something in him seemed to leap up to it--to that
light as frostily clear as her eyes! A taxi passed; he hailed it.

"How much to Jersey City?" he asked in feverish tones.

The man approximated a figure; it was large, but Mr. Heatherbloom at
once got in.

"All right," he said. "Only let her go! I've a train to catch."

"You don't want to land us in the police court, do you?" asked the
chauffeur.

Mr. Heatherbloom devoutly hoped not.

CHAPTER XI

MISCALCULATIONS

Two days later, on a bright afternoon, a young man stood on the edge of
a sea-wall called the Battery. It was not _the_ Battery, commanding a
view of the outgoing and incoming maritime traffic of the continent's
metropolis, but another Battery, overlooking another harbor, or estuary,
landlocked save for an entrance about a mile in width. Behind him lay,
not a great, but a little, city; hardly more than a big town; before him
a few vessels of moderate tonnage placidly plied the main or swash
channels.

The scene was tranquilizing; nevertheless the young man appeared out of
harmony with it. His face wore a feverish flush; his eyes had a restless
gleam. He had only a short time before come to town, entering in
unconventional fashion. As the train had slackened at a siding on the
outskirts he had quietly, and unperceived, slipped off the back platform
of the rear car; then made his way by devious and little frequented side
streets to the sea-front.

There, his eager gaze scanned the craft, moving in the open, or
motionless at the distant wharfs. An expression of acute disappointment
passed over his features; his eyes did not find what they sought. Had
that mad flight been for nothing? Had he but run into a new kind of
"pocket" here, all to no purpose?

Mr. Heatherbloom sat down; he was weary and worn. The dancing sparkles
laughed at him; he did not feel like "laughing back". Even as he leaned
against the parapet a newsboy close at hand called out:

"All about the mysterious abduction! One of the miscreants traced to
this city! Sup