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"Which will not happen," said Soames in sudden fury, "except over my dead body! Gail feels the same way. So let's go! We've got to plan a really king-size monkey-wrench to throw into these works!" He stepped on the motorbike pedal. He swung on down the winding mountain road for the lowlands. He went into a relatively small town.

"I don't know if you happen to be a cyclist, Captain er Graf; but if you'd like a practically new motorbike, only been used since last November, I can let you " There was a swish of skirts as Grace and Alice advanced on the visitor. "I'm sure," said Grace winningly, "that you're fond of the theatre, Captain Poppenheim.

To him, on the watch for such matters, there seemed an unusual preponderance of men on the streets of that small town. Fran wouldn't notice it. Soames did. But he wasn't noticed. He'd bought a leather jacket and a cap. He rode a battered motorbike. He didn't even faintly resemble Fran.

"Where are you, Soames? We need you on several matters " Soames hung up. His call, of course, could be traced. He'd travelled two hundred miles so that tracing it would do no good. He returned to where Fran dangled his legs from the back saddle of the motorbike, and they headed back to Calumet Lake for a few more days of peace and quiet.

"He'll be able to get a motorbike there," a suggestion which gave Mr Hesketh to reflect later that if that was the general idea of doing business it must be an easy country to make money in. The customer was satisfied at last, and Mr Murchison walked sociably to the door with him; it was the secretary of the local Oddfellows' Lodge, who had come in about a furnace. "Now's our chance," said Lorne.