And
the moral conclusion of this investigation is your marriage to her."

"Certainly," said Carden uneasily, "but how are we going to accomplish
it by to-morrow? How is it going to be accomplished at all?"

The Tracer of Lost Persons rose and began to pace the long rug, clasping
his hands behind his back. Minute after minute sped; Carden stared
alternately at Mr. Keen and at the blue sky through the open window.

"It is seldom," said Mr. Keen with evident annoyance, "that I personally
take any spectacular part in the actual and concrete demonstrations
necessary to a successful conclusion of a client's case. But I've got to
do it this time."

He went to a cupboard, picked out a gray wig and gray side whiskers and
deliberately waved them at Carden.

"You see what these look like?" he demanded.

"Y-yes."

"Very well. It is now noon. Do you know the Park? Do you happen to
recollect a shady turn in the path after you cross the bridge over the
swan lake? Here; I'll draw it for you. Now, here is the lake; here's the
esplanade and fountain, you see. Here's the path. You follow
it--so!--around the lake, across the bridge, then following the lake to
the right--so!--then up the wooded slope to the left--so! Now, here is a
bench. I mark it Number One. _She_ sits there with her book--there she
is!"

"If she looks like _that_--" began Carden. And they both laughed with
the slightest trace of excitement.

"Here is Bench Number Two!" resumed the Tracer. "Here you sit--and there
you are!"

[Illustration: MR. KEEN'S SKETCH OF THE RENDEZVOUS]

"Thanks," said Carden, laughing again.

"Now," continued the Tracer, "you must be there at one o'clock. She will
be there at one-thirty, or earlier perhaps. A little later I will become
benignly visible. Your part is merely a thinking part; you are to do
nothing, say nothing, unless spoken to. And when you are spoken to you
are to acquiesce in whatever anybody says to you, and you are to do
whatever anybody requests you to do. And, above all, don't be surprised
at _anything_ that may happen. You'll be nervous enough; I expect that.
You'll probably color up and flush and fidget; I expect that; I count on
that. But don't lose your nerve entirely; and don't think of attempting
to escape."

"Escape! From what? From whom?"

"From her."

"_Her?_"

"Are you going to follow my instructions?" demanded the Tracer of Lost
Persons.

"I--y-yes, of course."

"Very well, then, I am going