alias_ and a fortnight's record that would make
a lively story for the newspapers.

He was rather disappointed that no one followed him, no hand was clapped
on his shoulder. He reached Madison Square unwearied, wondering whether
the obliteration of his moral sense had destroyed also his old fears
about his health. He climbed to the front seat of a bus and rode up the
Avenue, a conspicuous figure.

He grinned as he saw seated in the upper window of the most conservative
of all his clubs one of his several prosperous uncles, an old gentleman
who for years was to be found in that same spot at this same hour of the
day.

Having sufficiently exposed himself to the eyes of the world he
determined to eat luncheon in the park restaurant. His appetite demanded
an amount of food that he would have been incapable of consuming a month
earlier, and having given his order he surveyed the pavilion tranquilly.
Women and children were the chief patrons, with a sprinkling of
sightseers resting from their contemplation of the city's wonders.

He watched idly a young woman with two children who occupied a table
directly in his line of vision. He was sure she was their mother, and
not a governess; she was smartly dressed, and her manner with the
youngsters was charming. She occasionally glanced about nervously, and
he detected several times a troubled look in her face. The children
chattered gaily, but it was evidently with an effort that she answered
their questions or entered into their talk. Children always interested
him, and the boy was a handsome little fellow, but it was the girl who
held Archie's attention, first as the embodiment of the beauty and
innocence of youth, and then with a perplexed sense that he had seen her
before. She suddenly turned toward him, her fair curls tumbling about
her shoulders, and glanced idly across the pavilion. The fine oval face,
the eyes dancing with merriment at something her brother had directed
her attention to, sent his thoughts flying to Bailey Harbor. As though
consciously aiding his memory, she fell into the relaxed pose so happily
caught by the photograph, with the same childish archness and
captivating smile.

Their luncheon had just been served and he continued to inspect them
with a deepening conviction that the woman was Mrs. Congdon and these
the children mentioned in the telegram he had found tucked under the
plate of the Bailey Harbor house. The resemblance between the young
woman