n the wall.

At the counter in the outside room, Blix, to the stupefaction of
Richard, the waiter, paid the bill. But as she was moving toward the
door, Condy called her back.

"Remember the waiter," he said severely, while Richard grinned and
bobbed. "Fifty cents is the very least you could tip him." Richard
actually protested, but Condy was firm, and insisted upon a half-dollar
tip.

"Noblesse oblige," he declared with vast solemnity.

They walked as far as the cathedral, listened for a moment to the bell
striking the hour of eight; then as they remembered that the restaurant
closed at that time, hurried back and entered the outside room in
feigned perturbation.

"Did I, could I have possibly left my stick here?" exclaimed Condy to
Richard, who was untying his apron behind the counter. But Richard had
not noticed.

"I think I must have left it back here where we were sitting."

Condy stepped into the back room, Blix following. They got his stick
and returned to the outside room.

"Yes, yes, I did leave it," he said, as he showed it to Richard. "I'm
always leaving that stick wherever I go."

"Come again," said Richard, as he bowed them out of the door.

On the curb outside Condy and Blix shook hands and congratulated each
other on the success of all their labors. In the back room, seated at
the same table, a bunch of wilting marguerites between them, they had
seen their "matrimonial objects" conferring earnestly together,
absorbed in the business of getting acquainted.

Blix heaved a great sigh of relief and satisfaction, exclaiming:

"At last K. D. B. and Captain Jack have met!"

Chapter VIII

"But," she added, as they started to walk, "we will never know which
one spoke first."

But Condy was already worrying.

"I don't know, I don't know!" he murmured anxiously. "Perhaps we've
done an awful thing. Suppose they aren't happy together after they're
married? I wish we hadn't; I wish we hadn't now. We've been playing a
game of checkers with human souls. We've an awful responsibility.
Suppose he kills her some time?"

"Fiddlesticks, Condy! And, besides, if we've done wrong with our
matrimonial objects, we've offset it by doing well with our red-headed
coincidence. How do you know, you may have 'foiled a villain' with
that telegram--prevented a crime?"

Condy grinned at the recollection of the incident.

"'Fly at once,'" he repeated. "I guess he's flying yet. 'All is
discovered.