on it for the first time--money, love,
tragedy, death."

An interruption came in the form of one of the office boys. The chief
was on the wire and wanted Cutty at once.

"At half after twelve, Kitty. And by the way," added Cutty as he rose,
"they say about the drums that a beautiful woman is immune to their
danger."

"There's your chance, Kitty," said Burlingame.

"Am I beautiful?" asked Kitty, demurely.

"Lord love the minx!" shouted Cutty. "A corner in Mouquin's."

"Rain or shine." After Cutty had departed Kitty said: "He's the most
fascinating man I know. What fun it would be to jog round the world with
a man like that, who knew everybody and everything. As a little girl I
was violently in love with him; but don't you ever dare give me away."

"You'll probably have nightmare to-night. And honestly you ought not to
live in that den alone. But Cutty has seen things," Burlingame admitted;
"things no white man ought to see. He's been shot up, mauled by animals,
marooned, torpedoed at sea, made prisoner by old Fuzzy-Wuzzy. An
ordinary man would have died of fatigue. Cutty is as tough and strong
as a gorilla and as active as a cat. But this jewel superstition is all
rot. Odd, though; he'll travel halfway round the world to see a ruby or
an emerald. He says no true collector cares a cent for a diamond. Says
they are vulgar."

"Except on the third finger of a lady's left hand; and then they are
just perfectly splendid!"

"Oho! Well, when you get yours I hope it's as big as the Koh-i-noor."

"Thank you! You might just as well wish a brick on me!"

Kitty left the office at a quarter of six. The phrase kept running
through her head--the drums of jeopardy. A little shiver ran up her
spine. Money, love, tragedy, death! This terrible and wonderful old
world, of which she had seen little else than city streets, suddenly
exhibited wide vistas. She knew now why she had begun to save--travel.
Just as soon as she had a thousand she would go somewhere. A great
longing to hear native drums in the night.

Even as the wish entered her mind a new sound entered her ears. The
Subway car wheels began to beat--tumpitum-tump! tumpitum-tump! Fudge!
She opened her evening paper and scanned the fashions, the dramatic
news, and the comics. Being a woman she read the world news last. On the
front page she saw a queer story, dated at Albany: Mysterious guests at
a hotel; how they had fought and fled in the early morning. There had
been