lf to the light and looked about him. A
score of men stood leaning against the walls, while Namoto and Togi,
seated at the desk, were conversing in low tones. They spoke in
Japanese, but he had no doubt that they were deciding for him the issues
of life and death. He had no delusions as to what probably awaited him.
He had learned too much to be allowed to live.

But the conspirators seemed perplexed. To kill him, then and there,
would be awkward. There is nothing in the world harder to dispose of
than a dead body. Burial, burning, destruction by acids--all left
traces. And this was not Japanese but American soil. There might be a
hue and cry, a search, exposure, arrest. Still, he must vanish from the
land of the living.

At last, Togi seemed to have an inspiration. He bent over eagerly and
disclosed his idea. Namoto pondered and found it good. He beckoned to
an officer in a naval uniform, and gave him his instructions.

At a signal, four men advanced, and, taking Bert by the legs and
shoulders, carried him through a secret passage into the grounds. As
silently as so many ghosts, they followed a road that led through the
estate to the river's brink. There lay the swift sea-going yacht that
Togi had mentioned. Bert was carried on board, the vessel slipped its
moorings, and like a wraith passed down the Bay of Limon and out to sea.

It was with a sinking heart that Bert saw the lights of Colon grow more
and more indistinct, until they looked to be little more than a nebulous
haze rising above the water. His first thought had been that the
Japanese were taking him to Japan, for some reason of their own, and as
they steamed on mile after mile this idea gained strength.

After his capture he had expected nothing better than instant death, and
when he found that his captors had other plans he had a gleam of hope.
Perhaps, after all, he could make his escape in some way, or get a
message to the authorities. But when he was taken to the yacht hope died
within him, and he almost wished he had been killed at the moment of
capture. Knowing what he did, the possibility of his own life being
spared brought him but little comfort. Once fairly at sea, and he felt
that nothing could stop the awful catastrophe hanging over his country.

Filled with these melancholy reflections, he hardly noticed what was
going on around him, and only looked up when two sturdy Japanese seamen
approached him. They untied his bond