on the
way, and he will make the arrangements for--the arrangements that have
to be made, you know."

They retraced their steps toward the town, meeting the doctor at the
broken bridge. Dave exchanged a few words with him in low tones, and
they passed on. Soon they were swinging again through the city
streets, this time through the busy thoroughfares, which were almost
blocked with tense, excited crowds about the bulletin boards. Even
with the developments of the evening pressing heavily upon his mind,
Dave could not resist the temptation to stop and listen for a moment to
bulletins being read through a megaphone.

"The Kaiser has stripped off his British regalia," said the announcer.
"He says he will never again wear a British uniform."

A chuckle of derisive laughter ran through the mob; then some one
struck up a well-known refrain,--"What the hell do we care?" Up and
down the street voices caught up the chorus. . . . Within a year the
bones of many in that thoughtless crowd, bleaching on the fields of
Flanders, showed how much they cared.

Dave literally pressed his machine through the throng, which opened
slowly to let it pass, and immediately filled up the wake behind. Then
he drove direct to the Hardy home.

After some delay Irene met him at the door, and Dave explained the
situation in a few words. "We must take care of him, Reenie," he said.
"I feel a personal responsibility."

"Of course we will take him," she answered. "He will live here until
we have a--some place of our own." Her face was bright with something
which must be tenderness. "Bring him upstairs. We will allot him a
room, and introduce him, first, to--the bath-room. And tomorrow we
shall have an excursion down town, and some new clothes for
Charlie--Elden."

As they moved up the stairs Conward, who had been in another room in
conversation with Mrs. Hardy, followed them unseen. The evening had
been interminable for Conward. For three hours he had waited word that
his victim had been trapped, and for three hours no word had come. He
had smoked numberless cigarettes, and nibbled impatiently at his nails,
and tried to appear at ease before Mrs. Hardy. If his plans had
miscarried; if Dave had discovered the plot; well---- And here at
length was Dave, engrossed in a very different matter. Conward
followed them up the stairs.

Irene and Dave chatted with the boy for a few moments, trying to make
him feel at home in his strange