emed to see a resemblance to someone he knew
in the tall man. He spoke quickly to the girl beside him.

"Who is the man to the left?"

"Senhor Canalejas," said the girl drearily. "He is the Minister of
War. I suppose he, too...."

Bell drew a deep breath. He walked on, confidently. As the two others
drew near he said apologetically:

"Senhores."

They halted with the instinctive, at least surface, courtesy of the
Brazilian. And Bell was fumbling with his handkerchief, rather
nervously tying a knot in it. He held it out to Canalejas.

"Observe."

It was, of course, a recognition-knot such as may be given to an
outsider by one in the Trade. The tall man's face changed. And Bell
swung swiftly and suddenly and very accurately to the point of the
other man's jaw.

He collapsed.

* * * * *

"Senhor Canalejas," said Bell politely, "I am about to go and steal an
airplane to take what I have learned to my companion for transmission.
If you wish to go with me...."

Canalejas stared for the fraction of a second. Then he said quietly:

"But of course."

He turned to retrace his steps. Bell turned to the girl.

"If you are wise," he said gently, "you will go and give the alarm. If
you are kind, you will delay it as much as you dare."

She regarded him in agonized doubt for a moment, and nodded. She fled.

"Now," said Bell casually, "I think we had better hasten. And I hope,
Senhor Canalejas, that you have a revolver. We will need one. Mine has
been ruined."

Without a word, the white-haired man drew out a weapon and offered it
to him.

"I had intended," he said very calmly, "to kill the Senhor Ribiera.
His last demand is for my daughter."

They went swiftly. The plane Bell had seen alight some fifteen or
twenty minutes before was just being approached by languid mechanics.
It was, of course, still warm. Canalejas shouted and waved his arm
imperiously. It is probable that he gave the impression of a man
returning for some forgotten thing, left in the cockpit of the plane.

* * * * *

What happened then, happened quickly. A few crisp words in a low tone.
A minor hubbub began suddenly back at the house. Canalejas climbed
into the passenger's seat as if looking for something. And Bell
presented his now useless automatic pleasantly at the head of the
nearest staring mechanic, and while he froze in horror, scrambled up
into the pilot's cockpit.

"