LITMIR.BIZ

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withdrawn.

      The next moment she was standing at the rail again, as quiet as a statue, staring dreamily out over the moonlit water. Then she turned and with a quickening murmur of drapery passed out of the circle of Wilsnach's hearing and observation.

      He waited there, however, for what seemed a reasonable length of time to reckon at the margin of safety.

      Yet the tired limbs remained as cramped as before. For at the very moment he had decided to gather himself together he heard the sound of a stealthy step behind him. A man stood at his side, stooped close over his face and then once more peered cautiously about the darkness. For the second time a tingle of nerves swept through ​Wilsnach's tired body. And for a second time a hand insinuated itself under his coat, padded quietly about and then proceeded to explore his lower pockets.

      But the search proved fruitless. The man swung about, crossed the loggia and hurried in through the open door. As he did so Wilsnach twisted quickly about In the rustic chair, and peered after him.

      A second later the disappearing figure had passed from Wilsnach's line of vision. His glimpse of the man was a brief one; and the light had been uncertain. But it both angered and amazed him to realize that his second visitor had been an agent so menial; had been, in fact, one of the hotel waiters.

      He was still half-kneeling on the chair, with a head craned about its back, when a quicker step sounded beside him and a hand was clamped on his shoulder. The next moment he saw It was Kestner.

      "Who was that man?"

      "Never mind who he is. You get down to the carriage entrance and head off Diehms if he tries to climb Into an automobile. I'll get to the main door and stop him there, If he goes that way. If there's no sign of Diehms at your end of the house put a ​man on guard and get back into Madame Garnier's rooms with this pass-key. For if Diehms and that woman ever get out of this hotel, it's good-by!"

      "But what can they do?"

      "God only knows! But I've a feeling, Wilsnach, that we'll never see them alive again!"

      Wilsnach did not linger to talk this over. He made his way down through the hotel and inspected the neighborhood of the porte-cocheère. He found there, however, no trace of Diehms. So, having slipped a bill into the hand of a sleepy-eyed "starter," he explained what was expected of that attendant and quickly swung back through the all but deserted hotel corridors.

      He hesitated for several seconds before the door which he knew to be Madame Garnier's, for he was still uncertain as to what was demanded of him. Then he took a deep breath, fitted the key to the lock, listened intently and stepped inside.

      On his right, he could see, stood a partly opened door, and he felt convinced of the fact that it led to a bedroom. This discovery left him a little uneasy and a little uncertain as to how to advance.

      Then all thought on the matter suddenly vanished, for a quick sound smote on his startled ear, a sound ​like that of a window-sash being savagely pried open.

      This was followed by a rustle of drapery and the quick sharp scream of a woman. Then came a silence, followed by the sound of a woman's voice, slightly tremulous with terror. "Who are you?"

      It was a man's voice that answered, menacing, deliberate and not altogether pleasant to hear. "Never mind who I am. But I want those Navy plans you took off that Easterner, and I want them quick!"

      "You will never get those papers," was the woman's deliberately defiant reply.

      "I think I will!"

      "Those papers belong to the Navy Department and they will go back to the Navy Department, no matter what Keudell or any of his spies may do!"

      The man, apparently, had advanced farther into the room.

      "Keep back!"

      "Not this—"

      The sentence was never finished. The next moment a shot rang out, followed by the sound of an uncertain step or two, and then the dull thud of a falling body.

      ​Wilsnach, with his heart in his mouth, ran across the room and darted in through the half-open door.

      In the center of the bedroom he saw an ivory-skinned woman in an evening-gown, with a smoking revolver in her hand. Stretched out on the floor lay the figure of a man. Beside him, on the polished hardwood floor, glistened a small pool of blood. And Wilsnach's first glance told him this was the same man who had stooped over him as he lay in his loggia chair.

      The next moment Wilsnach was at the telephone. "Send the house doctor to Madame Garnier's rooms at once. At once, please, for it's an emergency case."

      Then he called over the wire: "Give me room four hundred and twenty-seven." Frantically as Wilsnach called room four hundred and twenty-seven, he could get no response there from Kestner. And now, of all times, he wanted the guidance and help of his older colleague. For he was in the midst of a tangle that he could not quite comprehend.

      "If this is known," still sobbed the woman, "everything will be lost."

      Wilsnach stood regarding the tumbled mass of her dusky hair. He stared at it a little vacantly, as ​though it were no easy thing for him to digest his discovery.

      "What shall I do?" cried the white-shouldered woman, as she looked up at him with distracted eyes.

      "What do you want to do?" asked the somewhat bewildered Wilsnach.

      Instead of answering that question, she stared at him with what seemed to be a sudden reproof.

      "Can't you see what has happened here?" she asked, in little more than a whisper.

      "I can see that we both seem to be working for the same Service, without quite—"

      "Then what are we to do?" she cut in. "For no one must dream I'm in that Service——and every moment means danger!"

      "There are several things we can do. The first is to let in that house doctor. But remember, no one else. Then wait for me here until I get back!"

      He was off, the next moment, scouring the midnight hotel for some trace of Kestner. It was not until he reached the loggia itself that he caught sight of his older colleague's figure. And Wilsnach hesitated for a moment to approach that older colleague, for he saw Kestner was already accosting a ​trim-shouldered officer with a military cloak thrown over his arm.

      "Lieutenant Diehms?" Wllsnach could hear his fellow-operative say. He could also see the officer's curt head-movement of assent.

      "There's a matter I'd like to talk to you about," announced Kestner.

      "Why?"

      "Because in this hotel, not an hour ago, Madame Garnier stole a number of Navy secrets from an officer named Keays."

      The two men confronted each other. Their stares seemed to meet and lock, like the antlers of embattled stags.

      "Who are you?"

      "I'm from the Secret Service at Washington, and I am here investigating Navy leaks—Navy leaks in which you are involved."

      "In which I am involved?" repeater the officer.

      "Do you know who Madame Garnier is, and where she comes from?"

      "She is a confidential agent of our own government," was the officer's reply. "And she comes from Washington for the same work that you pretend to be doing."

      ​Kestner stood for a moment studying the other man. But his vague look of pity did not desert him.

      "I'm sorry for you, Diehms! Truly sorry! Because you've been made a tool of—more than a tool of!"

      Diehms swung suddenly about. He caught the other man in a grip as fixed and frantic as the last grip of the drowning.

      "By God, you'll not say that!" was his passionate cry.

      Kestner had no chance to reply to

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