e," said the Baron gratefully as he rose, "to thank you. The
service is--ah--invaluable."

Uncomfortably Philip accepted his release and went lightly up the stairs.

"I am a fool," said Philip. "But surely Walt Whitman must have
understood for he said it all in verse. 'I am to wait, I do not doubt, I
am to meet you again,'" quoted Philip under his breath; "'I am to see to
it that I do not lose you!'"

CHAPTER VII

THEMAR

The door which led into the Baron's bedroom from his own was slightly
ajar. Philip, about to close it, fancied he heard the stealthy rustle
of paper beyond and swung it noiselessly back, halting in silent
interest upon the threshold.

Themar, the Baron's Houdanian valet, was intently transcribing upon his
shirt-cuff, the contents of a paper which lay uppermost in the drawer
of a small portable desk.

Catlike, Philip stole across the room. The man's hand was laboriously
reproducing upon the linen an intricate message in cipher.

"Difficult, too, isn't it?" sympathized Philip smoothly at his elbow.

With a sharp cry, Themar wheeled, his small, shifting eyes black with
hate. They wavered and fell beneath the level, icy stare of the
American. Philip's fingers slipped viselike along the other's wrists
and Philip's voice grew more acidly polite.

"My dear Themar," he regretted, falling unconsciously into the language
of his chief, "I must spoil the symmetry of your wardrobe. The
hieroglyphical cuff, if you please."

Themar's snarl was unintelligible. Smiling, Philip unbuttoned the
stiff band of linen and drew it slowly off.

"A pity!" said he with gentle, sarcastic apology in his eyes. "Such
perfect work! And after all that infernal bother of stealing the key!"

Philip lightly dropped the cuff into the pocket of his coat.

"And the key, Themar," he reminded gently, "the key to the Baron's
desk? . . . Ah, so it's still here. Excellent! And now that the
drawer is locked again--"

The hall door creaked. Simultaneously Themar and Philip wheeled. The
Baron stood in the doorway.

Philip smiled and bowed.

"Excellency," said he, "Themar in an over-zealous desire to rearrange
your private papers has acquired your private key and I have taken the
liberty of confiscating it, knowing that you prize its possession.
Permit me to return it now."

"Thank you, Poynter!" said the Baron and glanced keenly at Themar. "It
is but now that I had missed it."

"Excellency," burst fort