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“Is there a road-house called Kessler’s beyond here?” he asked.

“On the left, farther up, “the officer told him, and added: “You can’t miss it ‘ Mr. Wharton; there’s no other house near it.”

“You know me,” said the D.A. “Then you’ll understand what I want you to do. I’ve agreed to go to that house alone. If they see you pass they may think I’m not playing fair. So stop here.

The man nodded and dismounted.

“But,” added the district attorney, as the car started forward again, “If you hear shots, I don’t care how fast you come.”

The officer grinned.

“Better let me trail along now,” he called; “that’s a tough joint.”

But Wharton motioned him back; and when again he turned to look the man still stood where they had parted.

Two minutes later an empty taxi-cab came swiftly toward him and, as it passed, the driver lifted his hand from the wheel, and with his thumb motioned behind him.

“That’s one of the men,” said Nolan,”that started with Mr. Rumson and Hewitt from Delmonico’s.”

Wharton nodded; and, now assured that in their plan there had been no hitch, smiled with satisfaction. A moment later, when ahead of them on the asphalt road Nolan pointed out a spot of yellow, he recognized the signal and knew that within call were friends.

The yellow cigarette-box lay directly in front of a long wooden building of two stories. It was linked to the road by a curving driveway marked on either side by whitewashed stones.

On verandas enclosed In glass Wharton saw white-covered tables under red candle-shade and, protruding from one end of the house and hung with electric lights in paper lanterns, a pavilion for dancing. In the rear of the house stood sheds and a thick tangle of trees on which the autumn leaves showed yellow painted fingers and arrows pointing, and an electric sign, proclaimed to all who passed that this was Kessler’s. In spite of its reputation, the house wore the aspect of the commonplace. In evidence nothing flaunted, nothing threatened From a dozen other inns along the Pelham Parkway and the Boston Post Road it was no way to be distinguished.

As directed In the note, Wharton left the car in the road.” For five minutes stay where yo are,” he ordered Nolan; “then go to the bar and get a drink. Don’t talk to any one or they’ll think you’re trying to get information. Work around to the back of the house. Stand where I can see you from the window. I may want you to carry a message to Mr. Rumson.

On foot Wharton walked up the curved drive-way, and if from the house his approach was spied upon, there was no evidence. In the second story the blinds were drawn and on the first floor the verandas were empty. Nor, not even after he had mounted to the veranda and stepped inside the house, was there any sign that his visit was expected. He stood in a hall, and in front of him rose a broad flight of stairs that he guessed led to the private supper-rooms. On his left was the restaurant.

Swept and garnished after the revels of the night previous, and as though resting in preparation for those to come, it an air of peaceful inactivity. At a table a maitre d’ho’tel was composing the menu for the evening, against the walls three colored waiters lounged sleepily, and on a platform at a piano a pale youth with drugged eyes was with one hand picking an accompaniment. As Wharton paused uncertainly the young man, disdaining his audience, in a shrill, nasal tenor raised his voice and sang:

“And from the time the rooster calls I’ll wear my overalls, And you, a simple gingham gown. So, if you’re strong for a shower of rice, We two could make a paradise Of any One-Horse Town.”