, mad as a March hare. The Government has
no right to send an insane man to the gallows."

"All bluff, my dear Mr. Wright," answered the Superintendent, when the
chaplain voiced his protest. "He thinks he can get away with it. The
commission has pronounced him sane, and he must pay the penalty of his
crime."

By that mysterious process of telegraphy that exists in all penal
institutions, Von Kettler's boast that he would beat the hangman had
become the common information of the inmates. Bets were being laid,
and the odds against Von Kettler ranged from ten to fifteen to one. It
was generally agreed, however, that Von Kettler would die game to the
last.

"You all ready, Mr. Squires?" the prowling Superintendent asked the
hangman.

"Everything's O. K., sir."

The Superintendent glanced at the group of newspaper men gathered
about the gallows. They, too, had heard of the prisoner's boast. One
of them asked him a question. He silenced him with an angry look.

"The prisoner is in his cell, and will be led out in ten minutes. You
shall see for yourselves how much truth there it in this absurdity,"
he said.

* * * * *

He looked at his watch. It lacked five minutes of eight. The
preparations for an execution had been reduced almost to a formula.
One minute in the cell, twenty seconds to the trap, forty seconds for
the hangman to complete his arrangements: two minutes, and then the
thud of the false floor.

Four minutes of eight. The little group had fallen silent. The hangman
furtively took a drink from his hip-pocket flask. Three minutes! The
Superintendent walked back to the door of the death house and nodded
to the guard.

"Bring him out quick!" he said.

The guard shot the bolt of Von Kettler's cell. The Superintendent saw
him enter, heard a loud exclamation, and hurried to his side. One
glance told him that the prisoner had made good his boast.

Von Kettler's cell was empty!

CHAPTER II

_Conference_

Captain Richard Rennell, of the U. S. Air Service, but temporarily
detached to Intelligence, thought that Fredegonde Valmy had never
looked so lovely as when he helped her out of the cockpit.

Her dark hair fell in disorder over her flushed cheeks, and her eyes
were sparkling with pleasure.

"A thousand thanks, M'sieur Rennell," she said, in her low voice with
its slight foreign intonation. "Never have I enjoyed a ride more than
to-day. And I shall see you at Mrs. Wan