horror in all of your faces! You shudder as you sit there, thinking of
the thing I am to do. Yes, you are secretly despising me, your
instrument of death! I--I, a girl, I am to cast the bomb that blows this
dear little body to pieces. I! Do you know what that means? Even though
I am sure to be blown to pieces by the same agent, the last thing I
shall look upon is his dear, terrified little face as he watches me hurl
the bomb. Ah!"

She shuddered violently as she stood there before them, her eyes closed
as if to shut out the horrible picture her mind was painting. There
were other white faces and ice-cold veins about the table. The sneer on
Anna Cromer's face deepened.

"She will bungle it," came in an angry hiss from her lips.

Olga's lids were lifted. Her dark eyes looked straight into those of the
older woman.

"No," she said quietly, her body relaxing, "I shall not bungle it."

William Spantz had been watching her narrowly, even suspiciously. Now
his face cleared.

"She will not fail," he announced calmly. "Let there be no apprehension.
She is the daughter of a martyr. Her blood is his. It will flow in the
same cause. Sit down, Olga, my dear. We will not touch upon this subject
again--until--"

"I know, uncle," she said quietly, resuming her seat and her attitude of
indifference.

The discussion went back to Truxton King. "Isn't it possible that he is
merely attracted by the beauty of our charming young friend here?"
ventured Madame Drovnask, after many opinions had been advanced
respecting his interest in the shop and its contents. "It is a habit
with Americans, I am told."

"Miss Platanova is most worthy of the notice of any man," agreed Brutus,
with an amiable leer. Olga seemed to shrink within herself. It was plain
that she was not a kindred spirit to these vicious natures.

"It is part of his game," said Julius Spantz. "He knows Olga's past; he
is waiting for a chance to catch her off her guard. He may even go so
far as to make pretty love to you, cousin, in the hope that--no offence,
my dear, no offence!" Her look had silenced him.

"Mr. King is not a spy," she said steadily.

"Well," concluded William Spantz, "we are safe if we take no chances
with him. He must be watched all the time. If we discover that he is
what some of us think he is, there is a way to end his usefulness."

"Let him keep away from the shop downstairs," said Peter Brutus, with a
sidelong glance at the delicate profile of th