n was up to him. Foulet and I just happened to
be along; it was partly design and partly coincidence.

* * * * *

Two days before I had been in Constantinople. I was disheartened and
utterly disgusted. All the way from the home office of the United
States Secret Service in Washington I had trailed my man, only to lose
him. On steamships, by railway, airplane and motor we had
traveled--always with my quarry just one tantalizing jump ahead of
me--and in Constantinople I had lost him. And it was a ruse a child
should have seen through. I could have beaten my head against a wall.

And then, suddenly, I had run into Foulet. Not ten days before I had
talked to him in his office in Paris. I had told him a little of my
errand, for I was working on the hunch that this man I was after
concerned not only the United States, but France and the Continent as
well. And what Foulet told me served only to strengthen my conviction.
So, meeting him in Constantinople was a thin ray of light in my
disgusted darkness. At least I could explode to a kindred spirit.

"Lost your man!" was his greeting. And it wasn't a question; it was a
statement.

"How did you know?" I growled. My humiliation was too fresh to stand
kidding.

"Constantinople," said Foulet amiably. "You always lose them in
Constantinople. I've lost three here."

"Three?" I said, "Like mine!"

"Exactly," he nodded. Then he lowered his voice. "Come to my hotel. We
can talk there."

"Now," he continued fifteen minutes later as we settled ourselves in
his room, "you were very circumspect in Paris. You told me
little--just a hint here and there. But it was enough. You--the United
States--have joined our ranks--"

"You mean--"

"I mean that for a year we, the various secret service organizations
of the Continent--and that includes, of course, Scotland Yard--have
been after--Well, to be frank, we don't know what we're after. But we
do know this. There is a power--there is someone, somewhere, who is
trying to conquer the world."

[Illustration: _A white speck took shape beneath the rising Island._]

"Are you serious?" I glanced at him but the tight lines of his set
mouth convinced me. "I beg your pardon," I murmured. "Go ahead."

"I don't blame you for thinking it was a jest," he said imperturbably,
"But, to prove I know what I'm talking about, let me tell you what
this man has done whom you have been pursuing. He has done one of two
thing