and instantly Nada knew this man was Breault.

There was something peculiarly appalling about him as he sat there, in
spite of the fact that for a few moments he neither spoke nor moved. His
eyes, Nada thought, were not like human eyes, and his lips were like the
blades of two knives set together. Yet he was smiling, or half smiling,
not in a comforting or humorous way, but with exultation and triumph.
From looking at him one would never have guessed that Breault loved his
joke.

He nodded.

"Good morning, Jolly Roger McKay! And--good morning, Mrs. Jolly Roger
McKay! Pardon me for watching you like this, but duty is duty. I am
Breault, of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police."

McKay wet his lips. Breault saw him, and the grin on his thin face
widened.

"I know, it's hard," he said. "But you've got Peter to thank for it.
Peter led me to you."

He stood up, and in a most casual fashion covered Jolly Roger with his
automatic.

"Would you mind stepping out, McKay?" he asked.

In his other hand he dangled a pair of handcuffs. McKay stood up, and
Nada rose beside him, gripping his arms with both hands.

"No need of those things, Breault," he said. "I'll go peaceably."

"Still--it's safer," argued Breault, a wicked glitter in his eyes. "Hold
out one hand, please--"

The manacle snapped over Jolly Roger's wrist.

"I'm Breault--not Terence Cassidy," he chuckled. "Never take a chance,
you know. Never!"

Swift as a flash was his movement then, as the companion bracelet
snapped over Nada's wrist. He stepped back, facing them with a grin.

"Got you both now, haven't I?" he gloated. "Can't get away, can you?" He
put his gun away, and bowed low to Nada. "How do you like married life,
Mrs. Jolly Roger?"

McKay's face was whiter than Nada's.

"You coward!" he spoke in a low, quiet voice. "You low-down miserable
coward. You're a disgrace to the Service. Do you mean you are going to
keep my wife ironed like this?"

"Sure," said Breault. "I'm going to make you pay for some of the trouble
I've had over you. I believe in a man paying his debts, you know. And a
woman, too. And probably you've lied to her like the very devil."

"He hasn't!" protested Nada fiercely. "You're a--a--"

"Say it," nodded Breault good humoredly. "By all means say it, Mrs.
Jolly Roger. If you can't find words, let me help you," and while he
waited he loaded his pipe and lighted it.

"You see I don't exactly live up to regulations when I'm wit