e having a spree. Poor kid, what a jolt she would
get some day. She called me "our dreamer imported from France." But I
was far from dreaming.

Presently the harbor just opened one of its big eyes and sent up by a
messenger a little grim reality.

A Russian revolutionist had appeared among us with a letter to Sue from
Joe Kramer. Joe, I found to my surprise, had seen quite a little of Sue
over here while I had been in Paris--and from the various ships and
hotels that had been his "home" of late, he had written her now and
then. Through him Sue had joined a society known as "The Friends of
Russian Freedom," and Joe wrote now from Moscow urging her to "stir up
the crowd and lick this fellow into shape to talk at big meetings and
raise some cash. He has the real goods," Joe added. "All he needs is the
English language and a few points about making it yellow. If handled
right he'll be a scream."

He was handled right and he was a scream. Three months later he finished
a tour that had netted over ten thousand dollars. Now to buy guns and
ship them to Russia--where in the awful poverty bequeathed to them by
the war with Japan, a bitter people was still fighting hard to make an
end of autocracy.

"I think I can help you, Puss," said Dad.

I looked at him with interest. I knew he had been as tickled as I by
these astonishing friends of hers. "Revolooters," he called them. He was
a great favorite with the girls.

"I once knew a man in a business way who dealt in guns," he explained to
Sue. "He shipped some to Bolivia from my dock. I'll have him up to meet
your friend."

So this messenger from the harbor, a keen lean man of business, gave one
hour of his time to the problem in which the Russian dreamer had been
absorbed for fifteen years. And the hour made the fifteen years look
decidedly dreamy.

"Guns for Russia, eh?" he said. "How'll you get 'em into your country?
Where's your frontier weakest? You don't know? Then I'll tell you." And
the man of business did. "Now what kind of guns do you want? You hadn't
thought? Well, my friend, you want Mausers. They happen to be cheap just
now in Vienna. You should have looked into that before you traipsed way
over here. You can get 'em there for three twenty apiece--they dropped
three cents last Tuesday."

The dreamer dreamed hard and fast for a moment.

"Then," he cried triumphantly, "wit' ten t'ousand dollairs I can buy
over t'ree t'ousand guns!"

The gunman's look was pa