almost entirely by nursemaids, judging from the number of baby carriages
trailing along the walks. Back of the curb were a few benches, but West
chose to remain outside, depositing his bag in plain view of any one
passing, and then walked back and forth somewhat nervously. He was there
several minutes ahead of time, and compared his watch by a clock in a
church tower a block away. He had no knowledge of how he was to be
approached, or identified, but his being requested to bring a bag
containing evening clothes, somehow suggested riding, rather than
walking, and consequently his eyes followed more or less intently the
constant stream of automobiles.

He grew restless, and more doubtful as the moments slipped past. Surely
he could not have mistaken the place of appointment or the hour? He
glanced at the scene to again reassure himself. No, that was impossible;
the park name was plainly decipherable beside the entrance, and his watch
coincided exactly with the clock in the tower. He stood beside his bag,
staring up and down the boulevard, permitting his eyes to occasionally
wander to the scene within the enclosure. Nothing rewarded his scrutiny.
Then suddenly, without slightest warning, a black limousine whirled in
alongside the curb, and came to a stop immediately in front of where he
waited. The chauffeur, dressed in plain dark livery, stepped out, and
threw open the rear door, without asking so much as a question. Except
that the fellow stood there, looking directly toward him, his fingers on
the latch, expectantly, West would not have known that he was wanted. Yet
it was all so obvious he could not question. Silently he picked up his
bag, and stepped forward. He saw no one within, but firm in the belief
that the chauffeur must have his orders, he entered blindly, the door
closing instantly behind him. The curtains were drawn, the interior
gloomy and indistinct, and the driver had resumed his seat, and started
the motor, before West realized that he was not alone. In one corner of