n his third night he heard the Committee discussing the failure of one
of Marlanx's most cunning schemes. The news had come in over the wire
and it created no small amount of chagrin among the Red conspirators.
That one detail in their mighty plot should go contrary to expectations
seemed to disturb them immeasurably. King was just beginning to realise
the stupendous possibilities of the plot; he listened for every detail
with a mind so fascinated by horror that it seemed hardly able to grasp
the seriousness of his own position.

It seemed that Marlanx deemed it necessary--even imperative--to the
welfare of the movement, that John Tullis should be disposed of
summarily before the crucial chapter in their operations. Truxton heard
the Committee discussing the fiasco that attended his first attempt to
draw the brainy, influential American out of the arena. It was clear
that Marlanx suspected Tullis of a deep admiration for his wife, the
Countess Ingomede; he was prepared to play upon that admiration for the
success of his efforts. The Countess disappeared on a recent night,
leaving the court in extreme doubt as to her fate. Later a decoy
telegram was sent by a Marlanx agent, informing Tullis that she had gone
to Schloss Marlanx, never to return, but so shrewdly worded that he
would believe that it had been sent by coercion, and that she was
actually a prisoner in the hands of her own husband. Tullis was expected
to follow her to the Castle, bent on rescue. As a matter of fact, the
Countess was a prisoner in the hills near Balak, spirited away from her
own garden by audacious agents of the Iron Count. Tullis was swift to
fall into the trap, but, to the confusion of the arch-plotter, he was
just as swift to avoid the consequences.

He left Edelweiss with two secret service men, bound for Schloss
Marlanx. All unknown to him, a selected company of cutthroats were in
waiting for him on the hills near the castle. To the amazement of the
conspirators, he suddenly retraced his tracks and came back to Edelweiss
inside of twenty-four hours, a telegram stopping him at Gushna, a
hundred miles down the line. The message was from Dangloss and it was in
cipher. A trainman in the service of Marlanx could only say, in
explanation, that the American had smiled as he deciphered the dispatch
and at once left the carriage with his men to await the up-train at six
o'clock.

Peter Brutus repeated a message he had just received from Marlanx at