Gately’s expressions and tones, and the rest of the gang laughed roughly and cast appraising glances after the pretty girl who was skirting the wet places and crossing the road.

So, that was who she was, thought John Sargent. Daughter of a very rich man! He had heard of him. He turned a furtive look over his shoulder and took in with a swift glance the sign that glittered goldenly in the morning sunshine over the office door just beyond where he was working. He caught a glimpse of the tall gentleman entering the doorway. That would be the girl’s father. He looked it every inch. Dignity, culture, keenness, distinction. All the attributes that go to make up success in the world today. Then, without seeming to do so, his eyes swept across the street to where he could watch the girl as she walked. She was graceful, slender, with an air of ease and assurance without arrogance. The kind of daughter a father like that man would be expected to have. And she had smiled at him and understood how he was feeling about that silly woman! He would cherish that smile. He probably would never see her again, but she would be pleasant to think about now and then, a sort of ideal.

Lisle crossed the street back to her father’s office just above where the water break had been. A slight rise in the ground at that point had left the crossing dry. She came down the street and went in the front office door. That seemed to settle it in John Sargent’s mind that she was the daughter of the head of that well-known and distinguished firm.

And while John Sargent was musing on this matter, the man Lacey stood not far away on the sidewalk, studying him.

As it happened there was still quite a crowd standing around and Lacey was in no danger of being observed, for many people lingered there, watching the work that was going on, and he was not noticeable. As he stood on the sidewalk and looked around quite casually, he noticed his handyman Kurt Entry standing across from him watching the workers interestedly. The other man did not look at him, and no recognition passed between them. But that, of course, was as it should be. And this was not the first time that such a thing had happened, when other operations of the same sort were being planned. Kurt Entry was well trained, a good actor. He knew how to erase himself from any given picture. That was why he was hired.

But the man Lacey carried away with him was the picture of the young man with the gold hair and the blue eyes above the shirt. Yes, that was a young man who would have good sense, but wasn’t there something lacking in that face for the job they wanted to wish on him? Did he lack the daredevil glint in his eye, or didn’t he? There was something firm and determined about the set of his lips, and once won over to accept the role that he was offered, he would stick. He would be a faithful emissary. But would he accept? There was a keen look in his eye. He wouldn’t be one to be fooled, to accept a job without understanding what it involved. Still, with a sick grandmother—a funeral perhaps in the offing—money might be an inducement. It would take plenty, of course, if there proved to be a hereditary fanaticism to be overcome, but money would likely do it. An overzealous twist in the brain would be the only thing that might prevent it.