and started up, took a step toward the fire.

"Stop!" The voice was John Steele's; he stood now next to the
partly-opened drawer, in his hand that which had been concealed there,
something bright, shining. Lord Ronsdale wheeled, looked at the weapon
and into the eyes behind it. "Place those two bits of paper there--on
the edge of the desk!"

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXI

A CONDITION

Lord Ronsdale hesitated; his thin jaws were set so that the bones of the
cheek showed; his eyes gleamed. When he did move it was as if blindly,
precipitately, to carry out his first impulse.

"I wouldn't!" What John Steele held vaguely included, in the radius of
its possibilities, Mr. Gillett. "Unless--"

"You wouldn't dare!" Lord Ronsdale trembled, but with impotent passion,
not fear. "It would be--"

"Self-defense! The paper would remain--full vindication. In fact the
paper already is mine. Whether I kill you or not is merely incidental.
And to tell you the truth I don't much care how you decide!"

Again Lord Ronsdale seemed almost to forget caution; almost, but not
quite; perhaps he was deterred by the look on John Steele's face,
scornful, mocking, as half-inviting him to cast all prudence to the
winds. This bit of evidence that he had not calculated upon, it was hard
to give it up; but no other course remained. Besides, another, Gillett,
knew of its existence; Lord Ronsdale felt he could not depend on that
person in an emergency of this kind; the police agent's manner was not
reassuring. He seemed inclined to be more passive than aggressive;
perhaps he had been somewhat overcome by this unexpected revelation and
the deep waters he who boasted of an "eminently respectable and
reputable agency" had unwittingly drifted into; in climaxes of this
character one's thoughts are likely to center on self, to the exclusion
of patron or employer, however noble. The police agent looked at
Ronsdale and waited to see what he would do.

The nobleman moved toward the desk; the paper fluttered from his cold
fingers; when once more John Steele buttoned his coat the affidavit had
again found lodgment in his waistcoat pocket.

It seemed a tame, commonplace end; but it was the end; all three men
knew it. John Steele's burning glance swept from Lord Ronsdale to
Gillett; lingered with mute contemplation. What now remained to be done
should be easily, it seemed almost too easily, accomplished. He felt
like one lin