SPOTTED IN AUSTRALIA.

If Merle Macray had landed from the Intrepid on the quays of Melbourne he had done so under a disguise that had deceived the detective of two continents.

Old Broadbrim for once seemingly had used his eyes in vain, and after a while he went back, walking up the quay, and turned into Collins Street in a deep study.

If he had watched a certain little old man who walked from the vessel he might have changed his mind.

This person, who carried a valise, had been among the first to disembark, and had hastened to get beyond the piers.

Half an hour later he might have been seen to enter one of the offices of the cable company and to ask for a message for "Ira Black."

The person in charge at the time lifted a message from a hook and handed it across the counter.

It was promptly paid for in gold, and the receiver, placing it in his pocket, walked out.

There was a smile on his face, and it lingered there some time, or until he entered a hotel and went up to a room on the third floor.

There, with the door locked behind him, he pulled forth the telegraph envelope and tore it open.

The message was from London and was very short, but it startled him.

In the soft Australian sunlight that entered the chamber he read at a glance, as follows:

"The Wolf follows. He is off on the Maybloom, bound for Sydney.

Jem."

The recipient of the cablegram looked up with a snarl of defiance on his face, now no longer old-looking, but with the mask removed, and young and handsome.

"So he is on the trail," he cried; "so this ferret from afar is on the hunt? Well, I am ready to meet him, but there's many a trap he never dreams of!"

He tore the message into tatters and threw them out the back window, to see the wind carry them in very many directions.

"You're a good one, Jem, but it would have been best if you had silenced the wolf and not put me to this trouble," he said in undertones. "It's all one, though. I guess we're equal to the task. If we are not no man can be."

Meantime, Old Broadbrim had gone back to the hotel near Collins Street for a little rest.

He waited till night deepened and then stepped into the street again.

The sights that encountered his gaze were new to him.

He was in one of the most wonderful cities in the world.

Melbourne, the capital of Victoria, and the haunt of the cattle king, the sheep prince, the gold nabob and the miner, presented scenes to be duplicated nowhere under the sun.

In the glare of the electric lights, the hurry and bustle of business, the revelry of saloon and dance hall, in the haunts of the tough and the palaces of the money kings, there is always something exciting and new.

Old Broadbrim had been to strange places in his career, but never in one just like Melbourne.

He jostled the gold hunter who had come to the city to spend his dust, and perhaps get a knife in his heart before he left it; he was pushed aside by the cattle boy in his jacket and sombrero, and the air was ladened with the slang of mine and camp till it disgusted the detective.

As he turned into one street Broadbrim saw ahead a brilliant sign which told him that beyond the door nearby one could see one of the sights of Melbourne, the great Paradise Dance Hall.

Unhesitatingly Old Broadbrim walked in.

It was a sight worth coming miles to see.

The vast place was brilliantly lighted up and the fun was at its height.

Music filled the air and the forms of dancers of both sexes went hither and thither under the chandeliers.

Broadbrim selected a spot from which he could witness the revel and not be in any one's way.

Hundreds were constantly coming and going.

For some time he watched the exciting scene, and he was in the act of moving out when he saw enter a man at whom he looked the second time.

This person with American ways came forward and stood near the detective while he cast his eye over the revelers.

He was tall and well built.

His garments were faultless and his face had lately felt the keen edge of the razor.

All at once a man sprang from the crowd and came up to the newcomer.

"Back, are you, Merle?" this man said, as he grasped the other's hand and wrung it. "I haven't seen you for months. How's the Queen and Round Robin Ranch?"

The other appeared a little chagrined over this profuse greeting, but it was impossible to avoid the man.

Old Broadbrim saw the keen, black eyes sweep the crowd as if in search of him, but they soon came back to the other one.

"Things are all right at the ranch," he said. "Belle is as pretty as ever, and——"

"I'm glad of that. I've been thinking of going out and taking a look at the place. You've been at home all spring, eh?"

"Yes, all the time."

"Wish I had gone then. You didn't take that trip to the States, then?"

"I hadn't time."

"Too much to do on Round Robin Ranch? That's it. Where there's money and lots of it one would better stay. But you're looking well, Merle——"

"There, don't call me Merle," the voice of the speaker dropped almost to a whisper, but the old detective heard. "I'm in Melbourne on a bit of secret business and I don't care to be 'Merle' here."

"That's all right, but why didn't you say so at the start? I am always ready to do you a favor, Me—Jack. There, that's one of the old names, you know. It'll do, won't it?"

"Yes, 'Jack.' That name is all O. K."

The other slipped away and left Merle to himself covertly watched by the detective who was secretly rejoicing over this bit of good luck.

He knew his man now.

Once more he had found Rufus Redmond, the Cunarder's passenger, but in a distant part of the world, and there he had blossomed out again as Merle Macray.

Merle did not remain long at the dance.

With a last look around the hall he slipped out, and immediately after the detective's corner was deserted and the old sleuth was on the trail outside.

Now he must not lose his man.

Perhaps Merle Macray thought that in Melbourne he was safe.

He did not appear the least frightened, but walked erect and led the detective a long chase.

All at once he turned into a little street, very narrow and rather dark, but Broadbrim did not hesitate.

He caught sight of the quarry down the street and plunged after him.

Merle stopped at a door and rapped.

In another moment it opened and he went in.

Old Broadbrim came up and looked at the house.

Beyond that door lay a mystery which he wanted to fathom.

Merle Macray, traced across the sea, had entered the house and was out of sight.

Old Broadbrim stood near the door and listened.

Perhaps it was a risky thing to do, but he took risks.

There were voices beyond the walls of the house, and he heard some one say:

"Chased from London, eh? What have you been up to now?"

It was the voice of an old man.

There was a laugh in reply, and then Broadbrim heard the voice of Merle Macray:

"What do you think I've done, Danny Minks? Do I look like an assassin? Do I have the appearance of a housebreaker or a ticket-of-leave man, that I should be tracked from London?"

"No, no, Merle, my boy, but why have you been tracked?"

"Go out there and ask the tracker."

"But he's not in Melbourne, I hope?"

"I can't say. I know he's on the road."

"On the water, you mean?"

"Put it as you please, Danny."

"Well?"

"I want you to tell me where the girl is now."

"Stareyes?"

"Yes, Stareyes. Is she in the city?"

"I don't know."

"Come, no lies, old man," and an oath followed the words. "I am not to be fooled again. If she's here I want to know it."

A moment's silence followed.

"She hasn't been here for three months."

"She was here, then, was she? The witch!"

"I saw her but half an hour then, and she slipped away before I could talk with her."

"You should have fixed her. That was the bargain, you know."

"I know, but——"

"I'll forgive you this time, but there must be no failure the next time she comes. You know the tenth step?"

"I know it."

"See that she finds it. No blood, no money, Danny."

"I'll obey."

Old Broadbrim heard this conversation while he leaned against the door of the house, and then he withdrew.

He believed that Merle would soon come out again, but he waited in vain.

He waited till nearly midnight, but no one came from the place, and then he went back.

Hastily changing his face by supplying a new set of whiskers, he went up to the door and knocked.

There was a shuffling of feet on the inside, and then the portal opened.

Old Danny stood before him with a light in his hand.

The detective slipped past the little man and turned on him in the hallway.

"What is it?" cried Danny, falling against the wall and nearly dropping his light.

"Merle is in danger. I want to warn him."

Old Danny gave Old Broadbrim a look that seemed to pierce him like an arrow.

"In danger? Merle?" he cried. "By the officers of the home government? I'll show you where he is. This way."

He crossed the room and opened a narrow door.

Old Broadbrim followed. He saw the shadow of a flight of steps leading downward, and Danny, with the light, entered the place and cried:

"Come!"