ght the other's sidelong glance,
"No, the chauffeur won't help you any. Naval man. Was on a submarine in
Russia when the Revolution broke out. A brother of his was murdered by
your people. George!"

"Yes, sir?" The chauffeur turned his head.

"This gentleman is a Russian Bolshevik. We don't want to shoot him, but
it may be necessary. You understand?"

"Perfectly, sir."

"I want to go to Gatehouse in Kent. Know the road at all?"

"Yes, sir, it will be about an hour and a half's run."

"Make it an hour. I'm in a hurry."

"I'll do my best, sir." The car shot forward through the traffic.

Julius ensconced himself comfortably by the side of his victim. He kept
his hand in the pocket of his coat, but his manner was urbane to the
last degree.

"There was a man I shot once in Arizona----" he began cheerfully.

At the end of the hour's run the unfortunate Kramenin was more dead than
alive. In succession to the anecdote of the Arizona man, there had been
a tough from 'Frisco, and an episode in the Rockies. Julius's narrative
style, if not strictly accurate, was picturesque!

Slowing down, the chauffeur called over his shoulder that they were just
coming into Gatehouse. Julius bade the Russian direct them. His plan was
to drive straight up to the house. There Kramenin was to ask for the two
girls. Julius explained to him that Little Willie would not be tolerant
of failure. Kramenin, by this time, was as putty in the other's hands.
The terrific pace they had come had still further unmanned him. He had
given himself up for dead at every corner.

The car swept up the drive, and stopped before the porch. The chauffeur
looked round for orders.

"Turn the car first, George. Then ring the bell, and get back to your
place. Keep the engine going, and be ready to scoot like hell when I
give the word."

"Very good, sir."

The front door was opened by the butler. Kramenin felt the muzzle of the
revolver pressed against his ribs.

"Now," hissed Julius. "And be careful."

The Russian beckoned. His lips were white, and his voice was not very
steady:

"It is I--Kramenin! Bring down the girl at once! There is no time to
lose!"

Whittington had come down the steps. He uttered an exclamation of
astonishment at seeing the other.

"You! What's up? Surely you know the plan----"

Kramenin interrupted him, using the words that have created many
unnecessary panics:

"We have been betrayed! Plans must be abandoned. We must sav