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S has been remarked just once before, I forget by whom, this world is a small place after all. The remark is equally true of New York City. I presume that a mathematician with a stub of a lead pencil and the back of an envelope could speedily figure out for you what chance Gordon had of meeting Peggy-in-the-Rain again. And I dare say the mathematician's result would be very discouraging. However, we don't require the mathematician's services, for within eighteen hours of the time the Siren anchored in East River the unexpected and hoped-for occurred.
The Siren returned just at twilight on a Friday in the second week of May. The next forenoon Gordon, returning uptown in his car, the chauffeur driving, cried "Stop!" at the top of his voice, threw open the door, and, before the car had ceased momentum, leaped to the pavement between a dray and a Columbus Avenue trolley,
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