fro, but none favoured the adventurer with the least attention.
Midway down the third flight he pulled up to one side of the landing, and reconnoitred. It was on the next floor below, the first above the street, that Ekstrom had stopped. But in what quarter thereof? The exigency forbade the risk of one false turn. If Lanyard were to take Ekstrom unawares it must be at the first cast.
From the ground floor came semi-coherent snatches of surly comment, like growls of a thunderstorm passing off into the distance:
"At a time such as this. …"
"… Secret Service snapping at our heels …"
"… base on the Vineyard discovered …"
"… Au Printemps raided, Sophie Weringrode under arrest. God knows whether she will hold her tongue!"
"Trust her! But this ass …"
"Bringing a woman here, putting all our necks into a halter …"
Immediately opposite the foot of the stairway, on the first storey, a door opened. O'Reilly came alertly forth, closed the door behind him, paused, fished in his pocket for a cigarette case, lighted and inhaled with deep appreciation, meantime eavesdropping on the utterances below with his head cocked to one side and a malicious smile shadowing his handsome Irish face.
In his own good time he shrugged an indifferent shoulder, thrust his hands into his pockets, and sauntered coolly on down the stairs.
The moment he disappeared, Lanyard went into
