"Then how shall you travel?"

"And you, Herr Shooter, how shall you go?"

Renwick smiled indulgently.

"If I took an automobile----"

"I should be constrained to go with you."

"Constrained?"

"If you would invite me--or condescend to permit me to pay my share of the expenses."

The man's personality was slowly expanding. Second class confectioners who venture on wild goose chases were rare in Renwick's acquaintance. He was becoming interesting as well as elusive, but Renwick was in no humor for further quibbling.

"I regret that that is impossible. I go on alone," he said decisively.

"_Ach, so_," said the other sadly. "That is too bad----" His words trailed off into a melancholy silence and he resumed his occupation of looking out of the window. The incident in so far as Renwick was concerned, was concluded.

At least he thought that. At Ujvidek, when Renwick, bag in hand, got down upon the station platform, the stranger stood beside him, fingering his cotton umbrella foolishly and looking this way and that. But when the Englishman after an inquiry of a loiterer, started in search of a garage, he found his fellow traveler at his heels, and the frown which Renwick threw over his shoulder failed utterly to deter him from his purpose--which clearly seemed to be that of continuing his journey in the Englishman's company.

When Renwick reached the garage and talked with the proprietor, a Hungarian whose German was almost negligible, the man of the cotton umbrella abandoned the doorway which he had been darkening with his shadow, and shuffled forward awkwardly.

"If you will permit me," he said solemnly. "I speak the Hungarian quite well. I should be glad to interpret your wishes."

The man's impertinence was really admirable. Renwick's desire to get forward on his long journey made him impatient of obstacles. He shrugged.

"Very well, then. Tell him I must have a machine and chauffeur to take me to Sarajevo by way of Brod. I will pay him handsomely and in advance.

I must travel today and all night. I must reach Sarajevo in the morning."

"_Ach, so_," said the stranger, and Renwick listened to the conversation that ensued, endeavoring by the light of his small knowledge of the language to make out what was said. But he was lost in the maze of consonants.

In a moment the interpreter turned with a smile.

"It is good. There is a machine. This man will drive himself. The price is two hundred _kroner_ and the petrol."

"Thank you. That is very good. I must leave within half an hour."

Renwick produced money, the sight of which brought about an amazing activity on the part of the garage man. Renwick strolled to and fro outside, alternately smoking and watching the preparations for departure, while the melancholy giant stood leaning upon his umbrella in the doorway. What was he waiting for? Renwick thought that he had made his intentions sufficiently explicit. At last, his impatience getting the better of him, he stopped before the man with the umbrella.

"I am greatly obliged to you for your kindness. But you understand? I go on alone."

The man in black regarded him blandly.

"That is not a part of the arrangement," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"That I am to go with you."

"I asked you to make no such arrangement."

"It is a pity that perhaps I misunderstood."

Renwick angrily approached the garage owner and tried to make him understand, but he only proceeded with his work with greater alacrity, bowing and pointing to the man in the doorway.

"You observe," said the tall man, "that you will only complicate matters?"

Renwick glared at the other, but he returned the look with an impudent composure, and Renwick, in fear of losing his self-control, at last turned away. Nothing was to be gained by this controversy. After all, what difference did the fellow's presence make? As a source of danger he had already proved himself a negligible quantity. So Renwick with an ill grace at last acquiesced, and within an hour they were on their way, crossing the Danube and turning to their right along a rough road by the Fruska mountains.

The first accident happened before the machine reached Sarengrad, a blowout which made another tire a necessity. The second, a broken leaf of a spring, which made rapid travel hazardous. But it was not until nightfall, in the midst of a desolation of plains, that carburetor trouble of a most disturbing character developed. Renwick paced up and down, offering advice and suggestion and then swearing in all the languages he knew, but the chauffeur only shrugged and sputtered, while the tall man gurgled soothingly. An hour they remained there when Renwick's patience became exhausted, and he gave way to the suspicion which had for some time obsessed him, that the pair of them were conspiring to delay him upon his way.

He came up behind the tall man who was bending over the open hood of the car, and catching him roughly by the elbow, swung him around and faced him angrily.

"I've had about enough of this," he said. "Either that car moves in five minutes or one of you will be hurt."

He moved his hand toward his pocket to draw his weapon but his wrist was caught in midair by a grip of steel that held Renwick powerless. The Englishman was stronger than most men of his weight and made a sharp struggle to get loose, but the man in black disarmed him as he would have disarmed a child, and calmly put the pistol into his own pocket. It was not until then that his bulk had seemed so significant, and the real purpose of his presence been so apparent. There was no use in battling with this melancholy Colossus who might, if he wished, break every bone in Renwick's body.

"Herr Renwick, if it will please you to be reasonable," he said, releasing the Englishman and speaking as if soothing a spoiled child.

At the mention of his name, Renwick drew back in growing wonder.

"Who--who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Gustav Linke," he said suavely. "I have been sent to keep you from coming to harm. You see"----and he patted the pocket which contained Renwick's pistol, "it is not difficult to run into danger when one is always pulling one's pistol out."

"Who sent you?" demanded Renwick furiously.

The man in black coolly picked up his cotton umbrella which in the struggle had fallen to the ground.

"That is not a matter which need concern you."

"I insist upon knowing and in going on to Brod without delay."

The other merely shrugged.

"I regret to say that that is impossible."

"Why?"

"Because my instructions were to keep you from reaching the Bosnian border until tomorrow morning."

"You are----?"

"Herr Gustav Linke--that is all, Herr Renwick."

"An agent of----"

"The agent of Providence--let us say. Come. Be reasonable. I am sure that the trifling disorder in the carburetor may be corrected. We shall go on presently. The night is young. We shall reach Brod perhaps by daylight. What do you say? Shall we be friends?"