"Great Scott! Lucky I came early! Grace's idea of time--oh, well, only
the small matter of an hour out of the way."

Quickly he sprang forward, taking up a good position to watch. First
came a man hurriedly and alone. A bunch of people followed him. Hugh
peered unsuccessfully here and there among them. Another bunch; she was
not in it, and he began to feel a trifle nervous. Now came the
stragglers and he grew bewildered. Finally, the last one--a woman hove
in sight. With renewed hope he scanned her approach. It was not Grace!
His brain was in a whirl. What could have happened? Where was she?
Again he jerked out the telegram.

"Meet me Forty-second Street, New York, at three," he read half-aloud.
"Nothing could be plainer," he mused in perplexity. "No train at three;
another at--she must be on a later one."

"What time is the next Chicago train due?" he inquired anxiously at the
Information Bureau.

"Five-thirty, sir," politely answered the official.

"Five-thirty!" he repeated disgustedly.

Again the telegram was brought out and this time shown.

"On what road did you expect the lady?" was the question put with
well-simulated interest that every few minutes was practised on
different individuals.

"Road?" Hugh stared blankly at his questioner. "What road?" Then, like a