so
heavily veiled was her face.

He had quite forgotten the incident when, a few hours later, he entered
the diner for his evening lunch. What then was his surprise, on
entering, to see Gladys Ardmore calmly seated at a table and nibbling at
a bun.

She motioned him to a seat opposite her.

"You didn't expect to have me for a fellow-passenger, did you?" she
smiled.

Curlie shook his head.

"Well, I didn't expect to go until the last moment. Then the professor
came with the translation of the writing on the map all written out.
Father thought you should have it, so he sent me with it. I arrived just
in time and decided all at once that I ought to--Oh, that I wanted--that
I _must_ go with you." There was a pathetic catch in her voice that went
straight to Curlie's heart.

"After all," he told himself, "he's her brother and that means a lot."

When he looked at her the next moment he discovered there the strangely
determined look which was so like her father's, and which he had seen
once before on her face.

"Here is the translation," she said simply as she passed over a roll of
paper. "Order your dinner; we will have plenty of time to look over the
papers later."

"She's a most determined and composed little piece of humanity," was
Curlie's mental comment. "I don't like her following me, but since she's
here I suppose I better make the best of it!"

Had he known how far she would follow him and what adventures she was
destined to share with him, he might have been tempted to wire her
father to call her back. Since he did not know, he ordered meat-pie,
French fried potatoes, English tea biscuits, cocoa and apple pie, then
settled himself down to talk of trivial matters until the meal was over.

When at last he saw the waiter remove the girl's finger bowl, Curlie put
out his hand for the paper. The hand trembled a trifle. Truth was, he
was more eager than he was willing to admit to read the French
teacher's translation of the writing on the back of the map.

Now as he held it in his hand one question came to the forefront in his
mind: Was this photograph a reproduction of the map that had looked so
much like it, the one in the great volume at the library? The
translation would dear up that point.

But then it might not be, he reasoned. The book said that the original
of this map had belonged to an English lord something like a hundred
years ago; that it had disappeared and nothing had been heard of it
sin