When Mason parted from Charles at Carlin he went straight to New York without stopping. It had been his intention to remain in the city only a few days, but, chancing to find his old room at Mrs. Reilly\'s unoccupied, he took it; he would wait for letters from home before deciding what to do in the future. Having sufficient funds to pay his way for a while, he felt rather independent.

One morning he happened to be passing through Washington Square when he came face to face with a man whose features were strangely familiar, and yet Mason could not tell where he had seen him before. It was evident, too, that the stranger had recognized him; indeed, there seemed to be a flash of surprised delight in the man\'s eyes. He passed on, and Mason, looking back, saw that the man was looking back also, though he quickly turned his head and walked on, now more slowly.

Seating himself on a park bench and opening a newspaper, Mason, by looking over its top, kept the man in view. Where had he seen him? he asked himself. Was it among the professional followers of the circus; perhaps he was some one he had chatted with at a restaurant? These questions were unanswered till a little thing happened. It was the surprising act of the stranger in pausing behind the great arch at the entrance of the park and peering stealthily at him. In a flash it came to Mason that it was the plain-clothes detective whom he had first seen at Madison Square a year before, who had followed him and Charles to their rooms, and from whom they had so narrowly escaped by flight at night.

"This is a pretty mess!" Mason muttered. "Now he will perhaps nab me as a witness and I\'ll be put through some sort of a third degree to force me to tell where Brown is and what I know about him. I\'ll make a move and see what he will do, anyway."

With this thought, and lowering his paper, Mason rose, sauntered carelessly along the walk to another bench, and sat down. Looking toward the arch, he saw the stranger coming in his direction. Opening the paper, Mason pretended to be reading, though he could still see the approaching man. He reached him, but, to his surprise, passed on. However, he came to a halt near by, and, with his hands in the pockets of his short coat, he stood staring hesitatingly at Mason. "He may be waiting for a policeman to help him take me in," was Mason\'s dejected mental comment. "I think I am in for trouble this time sure. I don\'t see any bluecoat about. I wonder if I\'d better make a run for it?"

He decided that such a course was impossible; the detective would blow a whistle and some one in the crowd would stop him; besides, the man looked as if he might be swift of foot. "We thwarted him before, and he will run no chances this time," Mason decided, gloomily, and he began drawing mental pictures of himself seated in the midst of a group of uniformed officers bent on locating the man in whose company he had been seen. The big price on the head of his friend was, no doubt, still offered, and that was inducement for extra work. Mason decided that he would lie with as straight a face as possible, though he was afraid that he might become tangled in his statements; the detectives might uncover discrepancies which could be turned against himself. There was no doubt that he was in a "pickle," as he put it, and he was both angry and alarmed. Charles had never alluded during their long friendship to the published charges against him, but somehow Mason had come to believe that his friend was not guilty.

The stranger, with what looked like an absolutely timid expression of face and mien, was coming toward him. There was nothing to do but to brazen it out, and Mason braced himself for the most difficult ordeal of his life. The man stopped in front of him, bent forward, and said:

"I beg your pardon, sir, but it seems to me that your face is somewhat familiar, and I was wondering if we have ever met before. I am a stranger in the city, sir, but I have an idea that I saw you a year ago here in New York."

"It may be," Mason answered, conscious that he must make as few admissions as possible and yet not appear to be keeping back anything. Suddenly his line of procedure became clear to him. He would simply say to this man, and his associates, that he had not seen Charles for more than a year. How could they prove otherwise, for if they had known Charles to be with the circus they would have taken him? That point was clear and Mason now felt more confident. He found that he could calmly return the stranger\'s bland stare. In fact, he began to study the fellow. He fancied he knew the exact spot under the man\'s lapel where his metal badge was concealed.

"It was in the crowd at Madison Square where I saw you," the stranger went on, as if eager to remind Mason of the fact. "You were listening to the speakers."

"Yes, I remember going there," Mason said, taking out a box of cigarettes. "Do you happen to have a match about you?"

The man fished one from a vest pocket with fingers which seemed to quiver slightly, and there was no doubt as to the look of suspended excitement in his mild eyes. Mason decided that he would not offer him a cigarette. "I think I recall seeing you there," he remarked. "In fact, as you passed me just now your face seemed familiar. You say you are a stranger in the city?"

"Yes, I only come here once in a while."

Silence fell. A lame Italian was playing a wheezy hand-organ at the end of the walk, and a group of ill-clad children were dancing near by. Charles wondered what his companion would do if he suddenly got up and left. Would he then declare himself in his official capacity or dog his steps as formerly? Mason somehow wanted the thing settled for good and all. How could he sleep or have any peace of mind with an uncertainty like that hanging over him?

"I think I may venture to be plain with you, sir," the stranger broke the silence to say. "The day I saw you you were in the company of a—a young man that I desire very much to meet."

"Oh, let me see," and Mason deliberately flicked the ash from his cigarette. "Who was I with that day? I ran with several chaps about that time."

The stranger described Charles accurately, and all but held his breath as he waited.

"Oh, that fellow!" Mason exclaimed, carelessly. "He was a stranger to me. I met him by accident at the house I roomed at. So you want to meet him?"

"Yes, very much. He is an old friend of mine."

"I see," Mason answered. "Well, I\'m sorry I can\'t help you find him. He and I parted about that time and I have not seen him since. I\'m rather sorry, too, for I fou............