He might remember where she wanted to go," the agent suggested hesitatingly.

"And say! What's the matter with going up to Garbin and looking up the record?
She had to get the license there, and they'd have her name, age, place of residence, and--and whether she's white or black." The agent smiled uncertainly over his feeble attempt at a joke.

"I got a license for a friend once," he explained hastily, when he saw that Ford's face did not relax a muscle.

"There's a train up in forty minutes--" "Sure, I'll do that." Ford brightened.

"That must be what I've been trying to think of and couldn't.