"No, we stop at the barns. Say, have you noticed that j.a.p in there?"

The conductor nodded toward Maku.

"What about him?"

"He was put aboard by a cop. Looks as though somebody had slugged him."

"That's so," commented Orme. "His head is bandaged."

"Judging from the bandage, it must have been a nasty crack," continued the conductor. "But you wouldn't know he'd been hurt from his face. Say, you can't tell anything about those Johns from their looks, can you, now?"

"You certainly can't," replied Orme.

The conductor glanced out. "There's the elevated," he said. "I'll have to go in and wake that drunk. He gets off here."

Orme watched the conductor go to the man who was sleeping in the corner and shake him. The man nodded his head vaguely, and settled back into slumber. Through the open door came the conductor's voice: "Wake up!"--Shake--"You get off here!"--Shake--"Wake up, there!" But the man would not awaken.

Maku was sitting but a few feet from the sleeping man. He had not appeared to notice what was going on, but now, just as the conductor seemed about to appeal to the motorman for help, the little j.a.panese slid along the seat and said to the conductor: "I wake him."

The conductor stared, and scratched his head. "If you can," he remarked, "it's more'n I can do."

Maku did not answer, but putting his hand behind the sleeping man's back, found some sensitive vertebra. With a yell, the man awoke and leaped to his feet. The conductor seized him by the arm and led him to the platform.

The car was already slowing down, but without waiting for it to stop, the fellow launched himself into the night, being preserved from falling by the G.o.d of alcohol, and stumbled away toward the sidewalk.

"Did you see the j.a.p?" exclaimed the conductor. "Stuck a pin into him, that's what he did."

"Oh, I guess not," laughed Orme. "He touched his spine, that was all."

The car stopped. The spectacled pa.s.senger with the portfolio arose and got off by way of the front platform. Would Maku also take the elevated?

If he did, unless he also got off the front platform, Orme would have to act quickly to keep out of sight.

But Maku made no move. He had returned to his former position, and only the trace of an elusive smile on his lips showed that he had not forgotten the incident in which he had just taken part. Meantime Orme had maintained his partial concealment, and though Maku had turned his head when he went to the conductor's help, he had not appeared to glance toward the back platform.

The conductor rang the bell, and the car started forward again with its two pa.s.sengers--Maku within, Orme without--the pursuer and the pursued.

"I thought the motorman and I was going to have to chuck that chap off,"

commented the conductor. "If the j.a.p hadn't stuck a pin into him----"

"I don't think it was a pin. The j.a.panese know where to touch you so that it will hurt."

"An' I didn't even like to rub the fellow's ears for fear of hurtin' him.

I heard of a man that was made deaf that way. Smashed his ear-drums."

"I wonder where the j.a.p will get off?" said Orme.

"Oh, he'll go right through to the barns and take a Clark Street car.

There's a lot of them j.a.ps lives over that way. He'll be one of 'em, I guess."

"Unless he's somebody's cook or valet."

"I don't believe he is. But, of course, you never know."

"That's true," said Orme. "One never knows."

As the car plunged onward, Maku suddenly put his hand in his pocket. He drew it out empty. On his face was an expression which may mean "surprise," among the j.a.panese. He then fumbled in his other pockets, but apparently he did not find what he was looking for. Orme wondered what it might be.

The search continued. A piece of twine, a pocket-knife, a handkerchief, were produced in turn and inspected. At last he brought out a greenback, glancing at it twice before returning it to his pocket. Orme knew that it must be the marked bill. But Maku was looking for something else. His cheek glistened with perspiration; evidently he had lost something of value. After a time, however, he stopped hunting his pockets, and seemed to resign himself to his loss--a fact from which Orme gathered that the object of his search was nothing so valuable that it could not be replaced.

When he had been quiet for a time, he again produced the greenback, and examined it attentively. From the way he held it, Orme judged that he was looking at the well-remembered legend: "Remember Person You Pay This To."

Presently he turned it over and held it closer to his eyes. He was, of course, looking at the abbreviated directions.

"You'd think that j.a.p had never seen money before," remarked the conductor.

"Perhaps he hasn't--that kind," replied Orme.

"Maybe he guesses it's a counterfeit."

"Maybe."

"Looks as though he was trying to read the fine print on it."

"Something you and I never have done, I imagine," said Orme.

"That's a fact," the conductor chuckled. "I never noticed anything about a bill except the color of it and the size of the figure."

"Which is quite enough for most men."

"Sure! But I bet I pa.s.s on a lot of counterfeits without knowin' it."

"Very likely. The j.a.p has evidently finished his English lesson. See how carefully he folds the bill before he puts it away."

"We're comin' to the barns," said the conductor. "Far as we go."

As he spoke, the car slowed down and stopped, and Maku arose from his seat. Orme was at the top of the steps, ready to swing quickly to the ground, if Maku left the car by the rear door. But the j.a.panese turned to the forward entrance. Orme waited until Maku had got to the ground, then he, too, descended.

Maku did not turn at once toward the Clark Street car that was waiting to start down-town. He stood hesitant in the street. After a moment, his attention seemed to be attracted by the lights of an all-night restaurant, not far away, and he crossed the street and walked rapidly to the gleaming sign.

Orme followed slowly, keeping on the other side of the street. If Maku was hungry, why, Maku would eat, while he himself would wait outside like a starving child before a baker's window. But Maku, it seemed, was not hungry. Through the window Orme saw him walk to the cashier's desk and apparently ask a question. In answer, the woman behind the desk-pointed to a huge book which lay on the counter near by. Orme recognized it as the city directory.

For some time Maku studied the pages. Then he seemed to appeal to the cashier for help, for she pulled the book to her, looked at him as though she were asking a question, and then, rapidly running through the leaves, placed her finger at a certain part of a certain page and turned the book around so that the j.a.panese could see. He nodded and, after bowing in a curious fashion, came back to the street.

Orme had, meantime, walked on for a little way. He would have gone to the restaurant in an endeavor to find out what address Maku had wished, but for two reasons: The cashier might refuse to tell him, or she might have forgotten the name. In either event his opportunity to follow Maku would thus be lost--and to follow Maku was still his best course. Accordingly he watched the j.a.panese go back to a Clark Street car and climb aboard.

It was an open car, with transverse seats, and Maku had chosen a position about two-thirds of the way back. There was, as yet, only one other pa.s.senger. How to get aboard without being seen by Maku was a hard problem for Orme, but he solved it by taking a chance. Walking rapidly toward the next corner, away from the car, he got out of the direct rays of the street-lamp, and waited.

Presently the car started. It almost reached Orme's corner when he signaled it and, hurrying into the street, swung on to the back platform.