y could not be doubted. But beyond this, all
was conjecture. He had no official position or diplomatic mission. No
breath of suspicion had ever been attached to him of being in any sense
hostile to American interests. His suavity, his courtesy, his
unquestioned wealth and standing had won for him universal respect. And
yet, if Bert's suspicions proved true, the accomplished Japanese
gentleman into whose eyes he was looking, was the most dangerous foe that
America had in the whole wide world.

A door opened and another Japanese entered the room. He was older than
the man seated at the desk, and his face was creased with the deep lines
of wisdom and long experience. He might have been, and probably was, one
of the "elder statesmen"--that august body, that, at home and abroad,
guided the destinies of the nation. He saluted ceremoniously the owner
of the house, and they were soon engaged in an animated conversation.

Then a man of a different type was ushered in by an obsequious servant.
He was dressed in American fashion, but his face indicated a Spanish
origin. He was a Cuban who had been educated as a civil engineer in one
of the scientific schools of the United States. His features were alert
and intelligent, but there was a certain shiftiness in his eyes, and
something about him gave an indefinable air of dissipation. He had been
employed for a time in harbor work at Vera Cruz, but had killed a man in
a brawl and been forced to flee the country. On the Canal, there were
eighty-seven distinct nationalities engaged in the work, and, in view of
the great demand for labor, he had no difficulty in securing employment,
the more easily as he was an expert in his profession. He had been
assigned to the Gatun section of the work, with his quarters in the city
of Colon.

The Japanese secret service, in its search for a suitable tool, had
become possessed of the facts regarding the murder for which the man,
Ofirio, by name, was wanted by the Mexican authorities. With infinite
caution and by slow degrees, they had approached and sounded him. They
appealed to his fears and his avarice. As regards the first, they could
betray him to his pursuers. For the second, they promised him an amount
of money greater than he could expect to earn in the course of his
natural life, and a safe refuge in Japan. Under the stress of these two
primal emotions, he had yielded, and, for a year past, had been in the
power and the pay