The boys return and report.

The game has been located, and Sir Donald can investigate at leisure.

Having driven past this stairway before sunrise of the next day, and noted the surroundings, Sir Donald returns to his hotel, charges the little fellows to say nothing, pays them well, and dispenses with their services.

After making the final turn, this stooping, slow-paced, shabbily dressed form is changed into an erect, agile, dapper, dudish-looking specimen, barring the coal-black beard and heavy moustache. Though this transformation takes place in full view of the juvenile picket, the boy cannot explain any of the details, but is sure of the miracle. A small package is all that is taken up the stairway.

That this disguise was assumed to spy upon Sir Donald's actions is evident. It is quite probable that no stranger would act thus, except he had reasons for wishing not to be identified. Whoever has resorted to such shifts must be interested either in thwarting search for the Dodge family or in unmasking of the Lanier plot. Solution of this affair doubtless will aid in solving one or the other of these vexing problems.

Here again there is difficulty. Sir Donald must neither visit this hiding-place nor openly take part in learning about the man who has been shadowing them. This might defeat or embarrass both investigations. He dislikes confiding in too many people and must tell no one about the Dodge confession, nor will he furnish any clew by which this wretched man may be compromised. After revolving in his mind many plans, Sir Donald concludes to employ two persons who shall constantly shadow this stranger and report.

Though questioned by the men employed in this work, he declines to furnish any explanation of his purposes.

"The pay will be good and the object is honorable. No crisis shall be forced, but I will exercise discretion upon the facts. Full, correct reports are required. Dispatch is not essential."

With double shifts employed in this affair, Sir Donald and Esther pursue their accustomed habits of life in Calcutta.

Though possessing much power of concentration toward the accomplishment of a fixed purpose, Sir Donald could think of other things while exclusive agencies were working out his will. Too many voices were awaiting hearing for him to stop his ears through infatuation of one narrow aim. Specialist fame had little charm for this comprehensive, broad-gauged, yet delicately adjusted soul. One of his odd sayings seemed characteristic of the man: