ted at the Treasury Building lifting his
hat,--an American soldier's campaign hat. The fellow was an extreme
blond, with a smooth-shaven, weather-beaten face, blue eyes and light
hair.

"Pardon me! You are mistaken; I am not a spy. But it is wonderful; it is
quite wonderful--"

The man's face was alight with discovery, with an alert pleasure that
awaited recognition.

"My dear fellow, you really become annoying," and Armitage again thrust
his hand into his trousers pocket. "I should hate awfully to appeal to
the police; but you must not crowd me too far."

The man seemed moved by deep feeling, and his eyes were bright with
excitement. His hands clasped tightly the railing that protected the
glass window of the book shop. As Armitage turned away impatiently the
man ejaculated huskily, as though some over-mastering influence wrung the
words from him:

"Don't you know me? I am Oscar--don't you remember me, and the great
forest, where I taught you to shoot and fish? You are--"

He bent toward Armitage with a fierce insistence, his eyes blazing in his
eagerness to be understood.

John Armitage turned again to the window, leaned lightly upon the iron
railing and studied the title of a book attentively. He was silently
absorbed for a full minute, in which the man who had followed him waited.
Taking his cue from Armitage's manner he appeared to be deeply interested
in the bookseller's display; but the excitement still glittered in his
eyes.

Armitage was thinking swiftly, and his thoughts covered a very wide range
of time and place as he stood there. Then he spoke very deliberately and
coolly, but with a certain peremptory sharpness.

"Go ahead of me to the New American and wait in the office until I come."

The man's hand went to his hat.

"None of that!"

Armitage arrested him with a gesture. "My name is Armitage,--John
Armitage," he said. "I advise you to remember it. Now go!"

The man hurried away, and Armitage slowly followed.

It occurred to him that the man might be of use, and with this in mind he
returned to the New American, got his key from the office, nodded to his
acquaintance of the street and led the way to the elevator.

Armitage put aside his coat and hat, locked the hall door, and then, when
the two stood face to face in his little sitting-room, he surveyed the
man carefully.

"What do you want?" he demanded bluntly.

He took a cigarette from a box on the table, lighted it, and then, with