CONSPIRATORS

The great automobile swung out of the park into the avenue, and Stella
drew a little sigh of regret.

"Mine is the next turning," she said. "Thank you so much, Mr. Littleson.
I have enjoyed every minute of it."

Littleson smiled, but he did not slacken speed.

"I was very fortunate indeed to meet you," he said, "but I shall not
think of letting you go until you have had some lunch. It is nearly
one o'clock."

Stella settled down again in her seat.

"That is very kind of you," she said. "I had an idea that you were such
a tremendously busy person, that you never stopped work for luncheon or
trifles of that sort."

"A mistake, I can assure you," he said. "Which do you prefer, Sherry's
or Delmonico's?"

"Martin's, if you don't mind," she answered. "I like watching a crowd of
people."

They found a quiet table in one of the balconies, and Littleson devoted
several minutes to ordering a luncheon which should be worthy of his
reputation. Then he leaned across the table and looked steadily at his
companion.