a dig. It was revenge, and he took it without delay.

"This ought to be a lesson to you, Mr. Hallo," he said. "I remember that
when I was a little bit of a chap you were always telling me
that--saying that this thing or that ought to be a lesson to me. Do you
remember?"

Hallo did not answer.

"You did, anyhow. Well, this ought to teach you that a business man
ought always to act so that people trust him. You haven't, you see.
People know you're a liar and a cheat, and so they don't believe you
even when you are telling the truth. You may have meant to do all the
things you've promised me to-night, but how could I take a chance on you
when I knew the truth about the way you've acted before? A reputation's
a good thing--I've always heard that, and now I know it."

Dick chuckled, but Hallo made no sound of any sort. Dick could imagine,
however, the workings of his mind, and he did not envy the helpless man
in front of him. Neither was he sorry for him. If Hallo was in a bad
way, he had himself to thank for it. Dick could respect him, in a way,
for his dealings with the Servians and the whole conduct of the man in
his relations with the Austrian authorities and the enemy. He might be a
good patriot. All the things he had done in connection with the sale of
supplies to the army and the attempts he had made to break up the
Servian system of espionage might be perfectly legitimate.

Even though Dick was heart and soul on the Servian side, he could
respect any sincerely patriotic Austrian or Hungarian. But he doubted
whether Hallo was capable of being either sincere or patriotic; he had
an idea that the man was a patriot simply because he saw a chance to
make money out of his patriotism.

"He is in a bad way, though," Dick thought. "They'll blame him for all
the things that have gone wrong, and if he has acted here the way he did
in New York, they'll believe that he did it deliberately too. They won't
give him the benefit of the doubt; they'll be sure he was a traitor,
instead of just a fool, and he will suffer for it too."

Dick was keeping his pistol carefully concealed. Whenever anyone came in
sight, to whom Hallo might have appealed for aid, he reminded him of the
existence of the pistol by tickling his ribs with it. But very few
people were abroad. It was late, and Dick was purposely choosing
unfrequented streets.

For more than the first time Dick was deeply grateful for his excellent
bump of locality, which his