BREAKERS AHEAD! CHECKMATE! MR.

ARTHUR FERRIS WORKS IN THE DARK.
Randall Clayton was an enigma in his altered personal bearing to his old confreres when he entered the manager's office at his summons on a balmy afternoon of the dying days of June.
The two months since Jack Witherspoon's departure had changed the frank young fellow into a taciturn man of feline secretiveness.

The discovery of Worthington's treachery, the knowledge of the dogging spies at his heels, had been a suddenly transforming influence.

He now ardently burned for the return of his one confidant, for the annual election was but a few days distant.
The ripening summer was coming on fast.

On Fifth Avenue the delicate, haughty-faced young Princesses of Mammon now bore the June blush roses in their slender pitiless hands.