of it into drafts on Rothschild. They are at the house now,
representing five millions of dollars in gold--and her jewels,
too--packed ready for flight."

"Then he does expect trouble?" said Clay. "You told me--"

"They're all alike; you know them," said Stuart. "They won't believe
they're in danger until the explosion comes, but they always have a
special train ready, and they keep the funds of the government under
their pillows. He engaged apartments on the Avenue Kleber six months
ago."

"Bah!" said Clay. "It's the old story. Why don't you quit him?"

Stuart raised his eyes and dropped them again, and Clay sighed. "I'm
sorry," he said.

MacWilliams interrupted them in an indignant stage-whisper. "Say, how
long have we got to keep up this fake game?" he asked. "I don't know
anything about dominoes, and neither does Ted. Tell us what you've
been saying. Is there going to be trouble? If there is, Ted and I
want to be in it. We are looking for trouble."

Clay had tipped back his chair, and was surveying the restaurant and
the blazing plaza beyond its open front with an expression of cheerful
unconcern. Two men were reading the morning papers near the door, and
two others were dragging through a game of dominoes in a far corner.
The heat of midday had settled on the place, and the waiters dozed,
with their chairs tipped back against the walls. Outside, the awning
of the restaurant threw a broad shadow across the marble-topped tables
on the sidewalk, and half a dozen fiacre drivers slept peacefully in
their carriages before the door.

The town was taking its siesta, and the brisk step of a stranger who
crossed the tessellated floor and rapped with his knuckles on the top
of the cigar-case was the only sign of life. The newcomer turned with
one hand on the glass case and swept the room carelessly with his eyes.
They were hard blue eyes under straight eyebrows. Their owner was
dressed unobtrusively in a suit of rough tweed, and this and his black
hat, and the fact that he was smooth-shaven, distinguished him as a
foreigner.

As he faced them the forelegs of Clay's chair descended slowly to the
floor, and he began to smile comprehendingly and to nod his head as
though the coming of the stranger had explained something of which he
had been in doubt. His companions turned and followed the direction of
his eyes, but saw nothing of interest in the newcomer. He looked as
though he might be a concession h