e entire room. Then they paused, for motionless against the
west wall, between the closet door and the corner, stood Pobloff. His
arms were folded, and he was laughing a little.

Frank drew nearer Keenan, instinctively, wondering what the next
movement would be.

It was Pobloff's voice that first broke the silence.

"This woman lies," he said, in his suavely scoffing baritone. "This
woman----"

"Why don't you say something--why don't you do something!" cried Frank,
hysterically, turning to Keenan.

"Ring the bell!" commanded Keenan.

"It's useless--the wires are cut," she panted. She could see that,
above and beyond all his craftiness, his latent Irish fighting-blood
was aroused.

"Then, by God, I'll put him out myself. If there's any fight between
him and me "--he turned on Pobloff--"we won't drag a woman into it!"

The tall, gaunt Russian against the wall was no longer laughing.

"Pardon me," he said, advancing a step. "This woman has in her
possession a packet of papers--of personal and private papers, which
concern neither you nor her!"

"But what if it _does_ concern me?" demanded Keenan.

"The gentleman is talking nonsense," said Pobloff, unperturbed. Yet he
leaned forward and studied him more closely, through the half-light,
studied him as the deliberating terrier might study the captured rat
that had dared to bite back at him. "This woman, I repeat, has certain
papers about her!"

"And what of that?" cried Keenan blindly. Frank saw, to her joy, that
he was misled.

"Simply this: that if the lady I speak of hands those papers to me,
here, the matter is closed, for all time!"

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then she will do so later!"

A grunt of sheer rage broke from Keenan's lips. But he checked it,
suddenly, and wheeled on the woman.

"Give him the package," he ordered. She hesitated, for at the moment
the thought of Keenan's trust had passed from her mind.

"Do as I say," he repeated curtly.

Frank, remembering, drew the yellow manila envelope from her bosom, and
with out-stretched arm handed it to Pobloff.

The Russian took it in silence. Then with a few quick strides he
advanced to the alcohol lamp. As he did so both Keenan and Frank
noticed for the first time the blunt little gun-metal revolver he held
in his right hand.

"Again you will pardon me," said Pobloff, with his ever-scoffing
courtliness. "A mere glance will be necessary, to make sure that we
are not--mistaken!"