t your father," whispered Severac Bablon. "Remember, I am
Mr. Sanrack!"

As he spoke, he watched her keenly. It was a crucial test, and both knew
it. Zoe was slightly pale. She fully realised that to conform now to
Severac Bablon's wishes was tantamount to becoming a member of his
organisation (which operated against her father!)--was to take a
possibly irrevocable step in the dark.

Whilst in many respects she disagreed with Severac Bablon's wildly
unlawful methods, yet, knowing something of his exalted aims she could
not--despite all--withhold her sympathy. In some strange fashion, the
wishes of this fugitive from the law partook of the nature of commands.
But she could have wished to be spared this trial.

Oppner came up.

"Oh, father," began Zoe, striving to veil her confusion, "I don't think
you have met Mr. Sanrack before? This is my father, Mr. Sanrack--Mr.
Alden."

The millionaire stared, ere nodding shortly. The detective showed no
emotion whatever.

"There is something which I am particularly anxious to explain to you,
Mr. Oppner," began Sanrack, having acknowledged the introductions with
easy courtesy. "It has reference to Severac Bablon!"

Zoe held her breath. Alden moved his cheroot from the left corner of his
mouth to the right. Mr. Oppner wrinkled up his eyes and scrutinised the
speaker with a blank astonishment.

"I hold no brief for Severac Bablon," continued the fascinating voice.

"Nope?" drawled Oppner.

"His deeds must speak for themselves. But on behalf of an important
financial group I have a proposition to make."

Mr. Oppner took a step forward.

"What group's that?"

"Shall I say, simply, the most influential in Europe?"

"The Elschilds?"

"If you consider them to be so, you may construe my words in that way."

"Mr. Antony Elschild has been pulling my leg with some fool proposition
about whitewashing the millionaire, or something to that effect. It's
always seemed to me he's got more money than sense. He's passed out a
cheque to this _Gleaner_ fund big enough to build a soap factory!"

"So has Mr. Rohscheimer, and so has Baron Hague!"

"I'm not laughin'! They were held up! Why they don't say so, straight
out, is their business. Jesson and Hohsmann will part out next, I
suppose, if it ain't me. But if I subscribe it will be because I had a
gun screwed in my ear while I wrote the cheque!"

"That is what my friends so deeply lament!"

"It is, eh? Yep? They'd like to see me