desire to give you
every bit of aid and comfort possible. However, what you ask is simply
impossible. For one thing, it would be in direct defiance of my--"

"Oath" he was about to add, but checked him self. On account of their
knowing that he was to be sought at the United Service Club it was
possible--even likely--that the enemy knew of his actual connection
with the Navy. Yet, Benson did not propose to supply the other side
with any gratis information. So he added:

"Contrary to my duty as an American. I am loyal to the Flag, madam,"
the boy continued. "Do you know the nature of Millard's offense?"

"No-o-o-o; that is, not exactly."

"Do you wish me to tell you?"

"Why--he--he--told me it was some dispute over international affairs,"
stammered the young woman.

"Do you feel yourself a loyal American?" asked Jack, looking at her
curiously.

"Yes!" she answered, without an instant's hesitation, looking straight
into his eyes, almost defiantly.

"And you love this man, Millard?"

"Yes!" Yet her declaration was not so emphatic as it would have been a
few moments before.

Jack Benson sighed.

"Would you love a man who had betrayed his country's flag?" he asked,
presently, in a very low voice.

"Has Don--has the man you know as Millard offered to do that?"

It was not suspicion, but incredulity that rang in her voice.

Jack Benson knew, now, that he was dealing with a woman who knew herself
to be a patriot--a lover of her country.

"I don't know that I have any right to say anything," Jack answered,
evasively. "Mr. Millard is a civil engineer, isn't he?"

"Yes, and a mechanical engineer, too," the girl admitted, without
attempt at concealment "As you also doubtless know, he served, once,
with a revolutionary army in Guatemala. It is in some sort of scrape
like this that he finds him self now. Some trouble that he has gotten
himself into with this government in order to befriend the
revolutionists of some Central American republic."

"Did Millard tell you so?" demanded Jack Benson, his eyes now very wide
open.

"He let me believe as much," the girl replied, one hand toying with a
fold of her dress, while she glanced down. "And that is the truth,
is it not?"

"No!" broke, half-angrily, from young Benson. The passion would have
rung in his denial, but he remembered that he was talking to this girl
about her betrothed husband.

"You spoke of the Flag a moment ago," cried the girl, suddenl