ed the Earl, but kept that microscopic
eye of his fixed on the Count.

"Very well, then. I repeat that John D. Curtis must be found and
arrested--to-night."

"Why?"

"Because he is a dangerous adventurer. I----"

"That's a lie, first sizz out of the syphon," broke in another voice.
"I have the honor to be a friend of John D. Curtis. My name is Howard
Devar, and I'll stand for John D. all the time against the noble Earl
and any God's quantity of blue-blooded, full-blooded Hungarians."

Each member of the animated group was gazing at Devar's boyish,
self-possessed, well-chiseled face, when another interruption held them
agog. A stout, middle-aged man, followed by a stouter matron, bustled
into the circle. The newcomers were just as clearly Americans as the
Earl was English, and the man cried angrily:

"Who says that John D. Curtis is a tough? I'm his uncle."

"And I'm his aunt," chimed in the lady.

"Of Bloomington, Monroe County, Indiana," said the man.

"Mr. and Mrs. Horace P. Curtis," announced the lady.

"Shake!" said Devar. "I heard about you to-day on board the
_Lusitania_. . . . Now, my lord, we are three to two. What charge do
you bring against John D. Curtis?"

CHAPTER V

NINE O'CLOCK

A new note had crept into the voice of the taxi-cab driver when he
stopped his vehicle in Madison Avenue and sought Curtis's further
commands. No longer did he address his patron with a species of
good-humored tolerance, almost of sarcasm; his mental attitude had now
become one of respect, even of hero-worship. A little later, while
smoking a thoughtful pipe in his own cozy flat somewhere near Second
Avenue, he tried to explain this curious development to his wife.

"You see, my dear," he said, "I picked up a fare in Broadway, an' took
him where he said he wanted to go. When he got out, he didn't seem to
be quite sure whether he wanted to be there or not, an' you can bet I
smiled when he said that he supposed the lady he was callin' on lived
somewhere around. Anyhow, after hesitatin' a bit, an' tellin' me he
wouldn't keep me a minnit, in he dives, an' kep' me coolin' my heels a
good quarter of an hour. I grew uneasy, because fares do get so nasty
about waitin' charges, so I signals the elevator man, name o' Rafferty,
to ask if it was O.K. When Rafferty comes back, we had a chat, an' he
tells me that this Miss Grandison--a mighty smart piece she is,
too,--was goin' to marry a little Frenchman r