The gleam in the beautiful eyes gave a hint of desperate remedies that might be applied to the case, but Ferdinand returned to the room, and the two women quickly spoke of other things.

Hendricks’ perfectly appointed and smooth-running car made the trip to Newark in minimum time.  Though the road was not a picturesque one, the party was in gay spirits and the host was indefatigable in his efforts to be entertaining.

“I’ve looked up this Hanlon person,” he said. “and his record is astonishing.  I mean, he does astonishing feats.  He’s a juggler, a sword swallower and a card sharp—­that is, a card wizard.  Of course, he’s a faker, but he’s a clever one, and I’m anxious to see what his game is this time.  Of course, it’s, first of all, advertisement for the paper that’s backing him, but it’s a new game.  At least, it’s new over here; they tell me it’s done to death in England.”

“Oh, no, Alvord, it isn’t a game,” insisted Miss Ames; “if the man is blindfolded, he can’t play any tricks on us.  And he couldn’t play tricks on newspaper men anyway—­they’re too bright for that!”

“I think they are, too; that’s why I’m interested.  Warm enough, Eunice?”

“Yes, thank you,” and the beautiful face looked happily content as Eunice Embury nestled her chin deeper into her fur collar.

For, though late April, the day was crisply cool and there was a tang in the bright sunshiny air.  Aunt Abby was almost as warmly wrapped up as in midwinter, and when, on reaching Newark, they encountered a raw East wind, she shrugged into her coat like a shivering Esquimau.

“Where do we go to see it?” asked Eunice, as later, after luncheon, she eagerly looked about at the crowds massed everywhere.

“We’ll have to reconnoiter,” Hendricks replied, smiling at her animated face.  “Drive on to the Oberon, Gus.”

As they neared the theatre the surging waves of humanity barred their progress, and the big car was forced to come to a standstill.

“I’ll get out,” said Hendricks, “and make a few inquiries.  The Free Press office is near here, and I know some of the people there.”

He strode off and was soon swallowed up in the crowd.

“I think I see a good opening,” said Gus, after a moment.  “I’ll get out for a minute, Mrs, Embury.  I must inquire where cars can be parked.”

“Go ahead, Gus,” said Eunice; “we’ll be all right here, but don’t go far.  I’ll be nervous if you do.”

“No, ma’am; I won’t go a dozen steps.”

“Extry!  Extry!  All about the Great Magic!  Hanlon the Wonderful and his Big Stunt!  Extry!”

“Oh, get a paper, Eunice, do,” urged Aunt Abby from the depths of her fur coat.  “Ask that boy for one!  I must have it to read after I get home—­I can’t look at it now, but get it!  Here, you —­Boy—­say, Boy!”

The newsboy came running to them and flung a paper into Eunice’s lap.