e the way the ripples have of running on and on, until
they touch the farthest shore?"

"Yes. And this is a ripple from some big stone cast into the pond of
southeastern Europe. I understand."

"That's just the difficulty. If you understood nothing it would be much
easier for me. But you know just enough to want to follow up on your own
hook. I know nothing definitely; I have only suspicions. I calmed
that policeman by showing him a blanket police power issued by the
commissioner. I want you to pack up and move out of this neighbourhood.
It's not congenial to you."

"I'm afraid I can't afford to move until May."

"I'll take care of that gladly, to get you out of this garlicky ruin."

"No, Cutty; I'm going to stay here until the lease is up."

"Gee-whiz! The Irish are all alike," cried the war correspondent,
hopelessly. "Petticoat or pantaloon, always looking for trouble."

"No, Cutty; simply we don't run away from it. And there's just as much
Irish in you as there is in me."

"Sure! And for thirty years I've gone hunting for trouble, and never
failed to find it. I don't like this affair, Kitty; and because I don't
I'm going to risk my Samson locks in your lily-white hands. I am going
to tell you two things: I am a secret foreign agent of the United States
Government. Now don't light up that way. Dark alleys and secret papers
and beautiful adventuresses and bang-bang have nothing at all to do
with my job. There isn't a grain of romance in it. Ostensibly I am a war
correspondent. I have handled all the big events in Serbia and Bulgaria
and Greece and southwestern Russia. Boiled down, I am a census taker of
undesirables. Socialist, anarchist and Bolshevik--I photograph them
in my mental 'fillums' and transmit to Washington. Thus, when Feodor
Slopeski lands at Ellis Island with the idea of blowing up New York, he
is returned with thanks. I didn't ask for the job; it was thrust upon me
because of my knowledge of the foreign tongues. I accepted it because I
am a loyal American citizen."

"And you left me because you' didn't know who might be at the door!"

"Precisely. I am known in lower New York under another name. I'm a rabid
internationalist. Down with everything! I don't go out much these days;
keep under cover as much as I can. Once recognized, my value would be
nil. In a flannel shirt I'm a dangerous codger."

"And Gregor and this poor young man are in some way mixed up with
internationalism!"

"Victims, p