side as I
drove. While passing through the little village of Raechnitz, Mr.
Gibbs--for that was his name--suddenly asked--

"What make of car is yours?"

No wonder he asked, for so constantly had its identity been disguised
that it nowadays bore about as much resemblance to a Napier as it did to
a Panhard. I had always before me the fact that the police were on the
look-out for a forty "Napier"; therefore I had managed to disguise it
outwardly, although a glance within the "bonnet" would, of course,
reveal the truth.

"Oh," I replied lightly, "it's quite an unknown make--Bellini, of Turin.
I've come to the conclusion that small makers can turn out just as good
a car as, and perhaps even better than, the larger firms--providing you
pay a fair price."

"I suppose so," he said rather thoughtfully. "From her general build I
took her to be an English Napier."

"She has the Napier cut," I remarked. "I think Bellini imitates the
English style."

It was fortunate, I thought, that the "bonnet" was strapped down and
locked, for the engines were stamped with their maker's name.

"You travel about a lot on her, I suppose," he went on. "It's a fine
car, certainly. Did you come across the Continent?"

"Yes. I've been about Europe a good deal," I answered. "Saves railway
fares, you know." And I laughed.

We were travelling quickly, and, the dust being troublesome, we pulled
up, and then, after all four of us goggling, went forward again.

After tea at the Golden Hoehe Mr. Gibbs again evinced a keen interest in
the car, examining it carefully, and declaring it to be a most excellent
one. Then, on the run back, he again turned the conversation to motoring
topics, with a strenuous desire, it seemed, to know my most recent
movements.

A couple of days passed, and I found Upton's friend a most congenial
companion. Each afternoon we all went out for a run, and each evening,
after dining, we went to the theatre.

On the fourth day after Mr. Gibbs's arrival a messenger brought me a
note which, to my surprise, I found to be from Blythe, who directed me
to meet him in secret in a certain cafe in the Grosse Garten at eleven
o'clock that night.

Then I knew that something further had been planned.

In accordance with the request, I went to the cafe at the hour
appointed. It was crowded, but I soon discovered him, smartly dressed,
and seated at a table in the corner. After we had finished our beer I
followed him out into the pa