so."

"Hang it all, Browne, I'm afraid to pluck a violet these days. Every
time I stoop over I feel that somebody's going to take a shot at me. I
wonder why the beggars select me to shoot at. They're not always popping
away at you, Browne. Why is it? I'm not looking for rubies every time I
stoop over. They shot at me the other day when I got down to pick up my
crop."

"It's all right so long as they don't kill you," was Browne's consoling
remark.

"By Jove!" said Deppingham, starting up with a look of horror in his
eyes, sudden comprehension rushing down upon him. "I wonder if they
think I am _you_, Browne! Horrible!"

CHAPTER XII

WOMEN AND WOMEN

The Enemy's office hours were from three to five in the afternoon. It
was of no especial consequence to his clients that he frequently
transferred the placard from the front of the company's bank to the more
alluring doorway of the "American bar;" all was just and fair so long as
he was to be found where the placard listed. Twice a week, Miss Pelham
came down from the chateau in a gaily bedecked jinriksha to sit opposite
to him in his stuffy corner of the banking house, his desk between them,
her notebook trembling with propinquity. Mr. Britt generously loaned the
pert lady to the Enemy in exchange for what he catalogued as "happy
days."

Miss Pelham made it a point to look as fascinating as possible on the
occasion of these interesting trips into the Enemy's territory.

The Enemy, doing his duty by his clients with a determination that
seemed incontestable, suffered in the end because of his very
zealousness. He took no time to analyse the personal side of his work;
he dealt with the situation from the aspect of a man who serves but one
interest, forgetting that it involved the weal of a thousand units. For
that reason, he was the last to realise that an intrigue was shaping
itself to combat his endeavours. Von Blitz, openly his friend and ally,
despite their sad encounter, was the thorn which pricked the natives
into a state of uneasiness and doubt as to their agent's sincerity.

Von Blitz, cunning and methodical, sowed the seed of distrust; it
sprouted at will in the minds of the uncouth, suspicious islanders. They
began to believe that no good could come out of the daily meetings of
the three lawyers. A thousand little things cropped out to prove that
the intimacy between their man and the shrewd lawyers for the opposition
was inimical to their best in