the cloud surrounding Carnac: it was a woman.

"I hear you're pulling things off here," remarked Carnac civilly. "He
says"--pointing to John Grier--"that you're making the enemy squirm."

Tarboe nodded, and a half-stealthy smile crept across his face. "I don't
think we've lost anything coming our way," he replied. "We've had good
luck--"

"And our eyes were open," intervened John Grier. "You push the brush and
use the chisel, don't you?" asked Tarboe in spite of himself with slight
scorn in his tone.

"I push the chisel and use the brush," answered Carnac, smilingly
correcting him.

"That's a good thing. Is it yours?" asked Tarboe, nodding and pointing
to the statue of the riverman. Carnac nodded. "Yes, I did that one day.
I'd like to do you, if you'd let me."

The young giant waved a brawny hand and laughed. He looked down at his
knee-boots, with their muddied soles, and then at the statue again on
the table. "I don't mind you're doing me. Turn about is fair play.

"I've done you out of your job." Then he added to the old man: "It's
good news I've got. I've made the contract with the French firm at our
price."

"At our price!" remarked the other with a grim smile. "For the lot?"

"Yes, for the lot, and I've made the contracts with the ships to carry
it."

"At our price?" again asked the old man. Tarboe nodded. "Just a little
better."

"I wouldn't have believed those two things could have been done in the
time." Grier rubbed his hands cheerfully. "That's a good day's work.
It's the best you've done since you've come."

Carnac watched the scene with interest. No envy moved him, his soul was
free from malice. Evidently Tarboe was a man of power. Ruthless he might
be, ruthless and unsparing, but a man of power.

At that instant a clerk entered with a letter in his hand. "Mrs. Grier
said to give you this," he remarked to Carnac, handing it to him.

Carnac took it and the clerk departed. The letter had an American
postmark, and the handwriting on the letter brought trouble to his eyes.
He composed himself, however, and tore off the end of the envelope,
taking out the letter.

It was brief. It contained only a few lines, but as Carnac read them the
colour left his face. "Good God!" he said to himself. Then he put the
paper in his pocket, and, with a forced smile and nod to his father and
Tarboe, left the office.

"That's queer. The letter seemed to get him in the vitals," said John
Grier with surprise.