am glad you don't hate me, John Massey. Shall we shake
hands once more and then--good-night?"

Their hands met again. A sharp glare of lightning lit the room with
ominous brilliancy for a moment. The paraquet screamed raucously. And
then the door closed on Alan Massey.

An hour later a servant brought word to Dick that an American was below
waiting to speak to him. He descended with the card in his hand. The name
was unfamiliar, Arthur Hallock of Chicago, mining engineer.

The stranger stood in the hall waiting while Dick came down the stairs.
He was obviously ill at ease.

"I am Hallock," announced the visitor. "You are Richard Carson?"

Dick nodded. Already the name was beginning to sound strange on his ears.
In one hour he had gotten oddly accustomed to knowing that he was John
Massey. And no longer needed Tony's name, dear as it was.

"I am sorry to be the bearer of ill news, Mr. Carson," the stranger
proceeded. "You have a friend named Alan Massey living here with you?"

Again Dick nodded. He was apprehensive at the mention of Alan's name.

"There was a riot down there." The speaker pointed down the street. "A
fuss over an American flag some dirty German dog had spit at. It didn't
take long to start a life sized row. We are all spoiling for a chance to
stick a few of the pigs ourselves whether we're technically at war or
not. A lot of us collected, your friend Massey among the rest. I
remember particularly when he joined the mob because he was so much
taller than the rest of us and came strolling in as if he was going to
an afternoon tea instead of getting into an international mess with
nearly all the contracting parties drunk and disorderly. There was a
good deal of excitement and confusion. I don't believe anybody knows
just what happened but a drunken Mexican drew a dagger somewhere in the
mix up and let it fly indiscriminate like. We all scattered like
mischief when we saw the thing flash. Nobody cares much for that kind of
plaything at close range. But Massey didn't move. It got him, clean in
the heart. He couldn't have suffered a second. It was all over in a
breath. He fell and the mob made itself scarce. Another fellow and I
were the first to get to him but there wasn't anything to do but look in
his pockets and find out who he was. We found his name on a card with
this address and your name scribbled on it in pencil. I say, Mr. Carson,
I am horribly sorry," suddenly perceiving Dick's white face. "Yo