long."

"Well, I don't care to get mixed up in a row."

Higgins laid a long, white hand upon the speaker's arm. "Then stay
with us, Mr.--Locke. If you incline to peace, be one of us. We're
a flock of sucking doves."

The dancers came crowding up to the table at the moment, and
Ringold suggested loudly: "I'm hungry; let's eat again."

His proposal met with eager response.

"Where shall we go?" asked Anderson.

"I just fixed it with Padden for a private room upstairs," Anthony
said. "All the cafes are closed now, and this is the best place in
town for chicken creole, anyhow."

Accordingly he led the way, and the rest filed out after him; but
as they left the ball-room a medium-sized man who had recently
entered from the street caught a glimpse of them, craned his neck
for a better view, then idled along behind.




II

THE TRAIL DIVIDES