d Court,
which knows nothing of the Ziegler plans, would set the League at our
throats."

"Send volunteers unofficially to raid the place?"

"Impossible. There is a heavy guard in the Arvanian Embassy; and I more
than suspect the place bristles with machine guns."

"What _are_ we to do?" demanded Forsyte.

The Secretary seemed to have been waiting for that final question.

"I have had an odd and desperate plan submitted me from an outside
source. I could not pass it without your approval. I will let you hear
it from the lips of the planner."

He pressed a buzzer. "Bring Mr. Winter in," he told his secretary.

* * * * *

The man who presently appeared in the doorway was an arresting figure. A
man of thirty-odd with the body of an athlete, belied somewhat by the
pallor of an indoor worker, with acid stained, delicate hands offset by
forearms that might have belonged to a blacksmith, with coal black hair
and gray eyes so light as to look like ice-gray holes in the deep
caverns of his eye-sockets. This was Thorn Winter.

"Gentlemen, the scientist, Mr. Winter," announced the Secretary. "He
thinks he can get the Ziegler plans."

Thorn Winter cleared his throat. "My scheme is simple enough," he said
tersely. "I believe I can walk right into the Embassy, get the
plans--and then walk right out again. It sounds kind of impossible, but
I think I can work it by making myself invisible."

"Invisible?" echoed Forsyte. "Invisible!"

"Precisely," said Thorn in a matter-of-fact tone. "I have just turned
out a camouflage which is the most perfect yet discovered. It was
designed for application to guns and equipment only. I'd never thought
of trying to cover a human body with it, but I am sure it can be done."

"But ... invisible ..." muttered Forsyte, glancing askance at Winter.

"There's no time for argument," said the Secretary crisply. "The
question is, shall we give this man permission to try the apparently
impossible?"

All heads nodded, though in all eyes was doubt. The Secretary turned to
the scientist.

"You are aware of the risk you run? You realize that if you are caught,
we cannot recognize you--that we must disclaim official knowledge of
your work, and leave you to your fate?"

Thorn nodded.

"Then," said the Secretary, his voice vibrant, "yours is the mission.
And on your effort hangs the fate of your country. Now--what help will
you require?"

"Only the assistance of o