Each time a man stopped and entered the building, he leaned a little further forward, and at each disappointment he seemed to realise a little more completely the slenderness of the chance upon which he was staking so much.

Then suddenly he found himself gripping the window-sill in a momentary thrill of rare excitement.

His vigil was rewarded at last.

The man for whom he was waiting was there! Quest watched him cross the street, glance furtively to the right and to the left, then enter the club.

He turned back to the little wireless and his fingers worked as though inspired.
"I am on Craig's track," he signalled.