inge of loneliness. And when an
automobile sign told him he was "10 miles from Columbus Circle," he felt
that from the New York he knew he was much farther. Two miles up the
road his car overhauled a bicycle policeman, and Wharton halted him.

"Is there a road-house called Kessler's beyond here?" he asked.

"On the left, farther up," the officer told him, and added: "You can't
miss it Mr. Wharton; there's no other house near it."

"You know me," said the D.A. "Then you'll understand what I want you to
do. I've agreed to go to that house alone. If they see you pass they may
think I'm not playing fair. So stop here."

The man nodded and dismounted.

"But," added the district attorney, as the car started forward again,
"If you hear shots, I don't care how fast you come."

The officer grinned.

"Better let me trail along now," he called; "that's a tough joint."

But Wharton motioned him back; and when again he turned to look the man
still stood where they had parted.

Two minutes later an empty taxi-cab came swiftly toward him and, as it
passed, the driver lifted his hand from the wheel, and with his thumb
motioned behind him.

"That's one of the men," said Nolan, "that started with Mr. Rumson and
Hewitt from Delmonico's."

Wharton nodded; and, now assured that in their plan there had been no
hitch, smiled with satisfaction. A moment later, when ahead of them on
the asphalt road Nolan pointed out a spot of yellow, he recognized the
signal and knew that within call were friends.

The yellow cigarette-box lay directly in front of a long wooden building
of two stories. It was linked to the road by a curving driveway marked
on either side by whitewashed stones.

On verandas enclosed In glass Wharton saw white-covered tables under
red candle-shade and, protruding from one end of the house and hung with
electric lights in paper lanterns, a pavilion for dancing. In the rear
of the house stood sheds and a thick tangle of trees on which the
autumn leaves showed yellow painted fingers and arrows pointing, and an
electric sign, proclaimed to all who passed that this was Kessler's. In
spite of its reputation, the house wore the aspect of the commonplace.
In evidence nothing flaunted, nothing threatened From a dozen other inns
along the Pelham Parkway and the Boston Post Road it was no way to be
distinguished.

As directed in the note, Wharton left the car in the road. "For five
minutes stay where you are," he ordered N