uainted with him
as part of a preconceived plan, some ingenious plan formed by that
fearless hunter of the Kaiser's spies, who was my most intimate friend?

Yes, I could only think that I had sorely misjudged her.

Hearing nothing from Raymond on the following day, and noticing that the
sensation caused by the death of the pilot had, by this time, quite
subsided, I went again over to Chelmsford and lunched at the
old-fashioned "Saracen's Head."

To my satisfaction, I learned that Vera had been staying there for the
past ten days, and was still there. Whereupon I left the hotel and
watched it during the remainder of that afternoon.

At dusk she came forth neat and pretty as usual, her face with its soft
fair hair half concealed by her flimsy veil. At the door of the hotel
she hesitated for a second, then she strolled to the other side of the
town, where, at an unfrequented corner, she was joined by the dark-eyed
man Freeman.

From the warm manner of his greeting it was apparent that he was charmed
by her, and together they strolled along the quiet byways, she allowing
him to link his arm in hers.

Knowing her ready self-sacrifice wherever the interests of her lover
were concerned, I could only surmise that her present object was to
watch this man, or to learn from him some important facts concerning the
mystery which Ray was so silently investigating. Therefore, fearing to
be observed if I followed the pair along those quiet thoroughfares, I
turned on my heel, and half an hour later left Chelmsford for Maldon.

That same night, soon after eleven, Ray Raymond returned to the "King's
Head," arriving by the last train from London.

"We must keep a wary eye upon that publican Bramberger, Jacox," he
whispered when we were alone together in my bedroom. "You must deal with
him. Frequent the 'Goat and Binnacle,' and see what's in progress
there."

"Vera is at Chelmsford, I see," I remarked casually.

"Yes," he said, "she's already on friendly terms with Freeman. You've
seen her, I suppose?"

I responded in the affirmative.

"Well, to-morrow I shall leave here again, to reappear in Maldon as a
river-side labourer," he said. "You will retain your role of
electrician, and patronise the homely comforts of our friend
Bramberger's house."

He spoke with that clear decision which characterised all his actions,
for in the investigation of any suspicion of the presence of spies, he
first formed his theory, and then start