cursing under his breath, bent over the table, reading as
Freund's soiled finger moved:

"Fein plots," he read. "German agents ... disloyal propa ... explo ...
bomb fac ... shipping munitions to ... arms for Ireland can be ...
destruction of interned German li ... disloyal newspapers which ...
controlled by us in Pari ... Ferez Bey ... bankers are duped.... I
need your advi ... hounded day and ni ... d'Eblis or Govern ... not
afraid of death but indignant ... Sinn Fei----"

Soane's scowl had altered, and a deeper red stained his brow and
neck.

"Well, by God!" he muttered, jerking up a chair from behind him and
seating himself at the table, but never taking his fascinated eyes off
the torn bits of written paper.

Presently Freund got up and went out. He returned in a few moments
with a large sheet of wrapping paper and a pot of mucilage. On this
paper, with great care, he arranged the pieces of the torn letter,
neatly gumming each bit and leaving a space between it and the next
fragment.

"To fill in iss the job of Louis Sendelbeck," remarked Freund, pasting
away industriously. "Is it not time we learn how much she knows--this
Nihla Quellen? Iss she sly like mice? I ask it."

Soane scratched his curly head.

"Be gorry," he said, "av that purty girrl is a Frinch spy she don't
look the parrt, Max."

Freund waved one unclean hand:

"Vas iss it to look like somedings? Nodding! Also, you Sinn Fein Irish
talk too much. Why iss it in Belfast you march mit drums und music? To
hold our tongues und vatch vat iss we Germans learn already first!
Also! Sendelbeck shall haff his letter."

"An' phwat d'ye mean to do with that girrl, Max?"

"Vatch her! Vy you don'd go back by dot wentilator already?"

"Me? Faith, I'm done f'r th' evenin', an' I thank God I wasn't pinched
on the leads!"

"Vait I catch dot Nihla somevares," muttered Freund, regarding his
handiwork.

"Ye'll do no dirty thrick to her? Th' Sinn Fein will shtand f'r no
burkin', mind that!"

"Ach, wass!" grunted Freund; "iss it your business vat iss done to
somebody by Ferez? If you Irish vant your rifles und machine guns,
leaf it to us Germans und dond speak nonsense aboud nodding!" He
leaned over and pushed a greasy electric button: "Now ve drink a glass
bier. Und after, you go home und vatch dot girl some more."

"Av Misther Barres an' th' yoong lady makes a holler, they'll fire me
f'r this," snarled Soane.

"Sei ruhig, mon vieux! Nihla Quellen keep