The fool! As if such a movement had not been anticipated. Sixteen
thousand miles, always eastward, on horses, camels, donkeys, trains, and
ships; down China to the sea, over that to San Francisco, thence across
this bewildering stretch of cities and plains called the United States,
always and ever toward New York--and the fool thought he could escape!
Thought he was flying, when in truth he was being driven toward a wall
in which there would be no breach! Behind and in front the net was
closing. Up to this hour he had been extremely clever in avoiding
contact. This was his first stupid act--thought the fog would serve as
an impenetrable cloak.

Meantime, the other man reached into the taxicab and awoke the sleeping
chauffeur.

"A hotel," he said.

"Which one?"

"Any one will do."

"Yes, sir. Two dollars."

"When we arrive. No; I'll take the bag inside with me." Inside the cab
the fare chuckled. For those who fished there would be no fish in the
net. This fog--like a kindly hand reaching down from heaven!

Five minutes later the taxicab drew up in front of a hotel. The unknown
stepped out, took a leather purse from his pocket and carefully counted
out in silver two dollars and twenty cents, which he poured into the
chauffeur's palm.

"Thank you, sir."

"You are an American?"