n the other's face.

"Even that is possible," assented the foreigner stiffly, "Environment
is a shifting circumstance of many colors. The honor of your
acquaintance, however, I fear is not mine."

Carl's eyes, dark and cold as agate, compelled attention.

"My name," said he deliberately, "is Granberry, Carl Westfall
Granberry."

The brief interval of silence was electric.

"It is a pity," said the other formally, "that the name is unfamiliar.
Monsieur Granberi, the storm increases. My ill-fated car, I take it,
requires no further attention." He stopped short, staring with
peculiar intentness at the road beyond. In the faint sputtering glow
of the embers by the wayside his face looked white and strained.

A slight smile dangerously edged the American's lips. With a careless
feint of glancing over his shoulder, he tightened every muscle and
leaped ahead. The violent impact of his body bore his victim, cursing,
to the ground.

"Ah!" said Carl wresting a revolver from the other's hand, "I thought
so! My friend, when you try a trick like that again, guard your hands
before you fall to staring. A fool might have turned--and been shot in
the back for his pains, eh? Monsieur," he murmured softly, pinioning
the other with his weight and smiling insolently, "we've a long ride
ahead of us. Privacy, I think, is essential to the perfect adjustment
of our future relations. There are one or two inexplicable features--"

The eyes of the other met his with a level glance of desperate
hostility.

With an undisciplined flash of temper, Carl brutally clubbed his
assailant into insensibility with the revolver butt and dragged him
heavily to the tonneau of his car, throbbing unheeded in the darkness.
Having assured himself of his guest's continued docility by the
sinister adjustment of a handkerchief, an indifferent rag or so from
the repair kit and a dirty rope, he covered the motionless figure
carelessly with a robe and sprang to the wheel, whistling softly. With
a throb, the great car leaped, humming, to the road.

At midnight the lights of Harlem lay ahead. The ride from the hills,
three hours of storm and squirting gravel, had been made with the
persistent whir and drone of a speeding engine. But once had it rested
black and silent in a lonely road of dripping trees, while the driver
hurried into a roadside tavern and telephoned.

Now, with a purring sigh as a bridge loomed ahead, the car slackened
and stoppe