the settlement had altered into a city. Where once stood little cottages now arose great business blocks or towering apartments. No longer was this a sleepy little island. It was a pulsing part of a great city.
Rapidly Henry strode along, his pulse stirred, as always, by the throbbing life of the great metropolis. On he went, and on and on, until he came to the place where he should have seen the house of the German spy. It was no longer there. A great row of apartments had replaced it. And when Henry looked above, at the higher level where stood the house in which he and his comrades had spent so many thrilling days, again he saw a row of towering apartments. The house he was seeking no longer existed.
The realization shocked him. He stopped in his tracks and stared. His heart almost stood still. His last hope was gone. Then wildly he tore up the roadway to the higher level, still hoping that he might find some trace of the people he sought. His hope was vain. No name in any doorway even remotely suggested the name he was looking for, and all whom he questioned gave him the same reply,—they did not know any one of that name.
Almost stunned, Henry turned about and slowly retraced his footsteps. He was hardly conscious of where he was going, but he kept