be a life and death struggle under the Black Flag."

It was this oath which made Clayton resolve to now hide his own
private life slyly from all his colleagues. And it was a most
needful precaution. For one single imprudence would give to his
enemies the secret of his devotion to the dark-eyed woman whose
eyes seemed to shine through all the clouds around him.

And, strange to say, the watchful Einstein had as yet made
no report, though each night during the week Clayton had seen the
youth hovering afar, at varied times, and in strangely incongruous
changes of external adornment.

It was while Clayton was hastily packing up his bank deposits,
upon the Monday morning, which had at last arrived, young Einstein
glided into the room and drew Clayton to the door, left slightly
ajar.

"There, quick," he whispered. "Those two fellows at the elevator,
now. They have just come out from reporting to old Wade. I was in the
office, waiting for Mr. Somers to give me the last mail deposits.

"Get out and follow them," whispered Clayton. "Come to my rooms
at eight to-night. Your hundred dollars await you." The agile
lad nodded and stole out, springing down the stairs to await the
slowly-descending elevator.

"Now," growled Clayton, as he viciously snapped the lock of his
portmanteau. "I will hide my every movement from you, my marble-faced
old sleuth. You are the heir of Ferris' infamy."

And yet, as Clayton descended in the elevator, he realized that
he had no claim whatever upon Robert Wade's friendship. "He has
not betrayed me," murmured the now defiant cashier. "He is only the
human 'transmitter' in Hugh Worthington's 'long-distance telephone'
of villainy."

But, deep down in his angered heart, Clayton swore an oath to
lead them all a merry dance. "No man among them shall ever have my
confidence, and I will find a way to hide my every movement."

He would have made a total change of residence at once but for Jack
Witherspoon's friendly caution. And so he sadly dismissed a plan
to follow Irma Gluyas, to find out her real residence, and to be
near her in the hours which she could make a paradise.

He smiled as he thought of the magnificent corbeille of flowers
which he had already sent over to the Restaurant Bavaria to be
placed in the breakfast-room. He had stolen away for a quarter of
an hour to give his own directions to the grave-faced "Oberkellner,"
who was all discretion, as he pocketed Clayton's ten-dollar