o do; I'll take the job!"

"We'd better talk it over first," suggested Barres. "There seem to be
several ways of going about it. One way, of course, is to turn
detective and follow Thessa around town. And, as you say, spot any man
who dogs her and beat him up very thoroughly. That's your way, Jim.
But Thessa, unfortunately, doesn't desire to be featured, and you
can't go about beating up people in the streets of New York without
inviting publicity."

Westmore came back and stood near Thessalie, who looked up at him from
her seat on the Chinese couch with visible interest:

"Mr. Westmore?"

"Yes?"

"Garry is quite right about the way I feel. I don't want notoriety. I
can't afford it. It would mean stirring up every French Government
agent here in New York. And if America should ever declare war on
Germany and become an ally of France, then your own Secret Service
here would instantly arrest me and probably send me to France to stand
trial."

She bent her pretty head, adding in a quiet voice:

"Extradition would bring a very swift end to my career. With the lying
evidence against me and a Senator of France to corroborate it by
perjury--ask yourselves, gentlemen, how long it would take a military
court to send me to the parade in the nearest caserne!"

"Do you mean they'd shoot you?" demanded Westmore, aghast.

"Any court-martial to-day would turn me over to a firing squad!"

"You see," said Barres, turning to Westmore, "this is a much more
serious matter than a case of ordinary blackmail."

"Why not go to our own Secret Service authorities and lay the entire
business before them?" asked Westmore excitedly.

But Thessalie shook her head:

"The evidence against me in Paris is overwhelming. My dossier alone,
as it now stands, would surely condemn me without corroborative
evidence. Your people here would never believe in me if the French
Government forwarded to them a copy of my dossier from the secret
archives in Paris. As for my own Government----" She merely shrugged.

Barres, much troubled, glanced from Thessalie to Westmore.

"It's rather a rotten situation," he said. "There must be, of course,
some sensible way to tackle it, though I don't quite see it yet. But
one thing is very plain to me: Thessa ought to remain here with us for
the present. Don't you think so, Jim?"

"How can I, Garry?" she asked. "You have only one room, and I couldn't
turn you out----"

"I can arrange that," interposed Westmor