the sake of us all you must be made to understand that we are
dealing with high explosives and poison gas。 It's not what might
happen to me or to Uncle Sam's business。 It's you。 Any moment
they may take it into their heads to get at me and Hawksley through
you。 That's why we watch over you。 You don't want to see Hawksley
done in； do you？ It's real tragedy； Kitty； and nobody can guess
what the end is going to
Kitty's lip quivered。 〃Cutty； if you talk like that to me I shall
cry。〃
〃Good Lord； what about？〃 … bewildered。
〃About everything。 I've been on the verge of hysterics all day。〃
〃Kitty； you poor child； what's happened？〃
〃Nothing … everything。 Lonesome。 When I saw all those mothers and
wives and sisters and sweethearts on the curb to…day； watching their
boys march by； it hit me hard。 I was alone。 Nobody。 So please
don't be cross with me。 I'm on the ragged edge。 Silly； I know。
But we women often go to pieces over nothing； without any logical
reason。 Ready to face murder and battle and sudden death； and then
to blow up； as you men say it； over nothing。 I had to move； go
somewhere； do something； so I came here。 But I came on … what do
you call it？ … official business。 Here！〃 She offered him the
wallet。
〃What's this？〃
〃Belongs to Johnny Two…Hawks。 He hid it that night behind my
flatirons on the range。 Why； Cutty； he's rich！〃
〃Did he show the contents？〃
〃Only the money and the bonds。 He said if he had died the money
and bonds would have been mine。
〃Providing Gregor was also dead。〃 Cutty looked into the wallet； but
disturbed nothing。 〃I imagine these funds are actually Gregor's。〃
〃He told me to give the wallet to you。 And so I waited。 I fell
asleep。 So please don't scold me。〃
〃I'm a brute！ But it's because you've become so much to me that
I was angry。 You're Tommy and Molly's girl； and I've got to watch
out for you until you reach some kind of a port。〃
〃Thank you for the flowers。 You'll never know just what they did
for me。 There was somebody who gave me a thought。〃
〃Kitty； I honestly don't get you。 A beauty like you； lonesome！〃
〃That's it。 I am pretty。 Why should I deny it？ If I'd been homely
I shouldn't have been ashamed to invite my friends to my shabby home。
I shouldn't have cold shouldered everybody through false pride。 But
where have you been； and what have you been doing？〃
〃Official business。 But I just missed being a fine jackass。 I'll
look into the wallet after I've cleaned up。 I'm a mess of gore and
dust。 Is it interesting stuff？〃 dreading her answer。
〃The wallet？ I did not look into it。 I had no right。〃
〃Ah！ Well； I'll be back in two jigs。
He hurried off； relieved to learn that the secret was still beyond
Kitty's knowledge。 Of course Hawksley wouldn't carry anything in
the wallet by which his true identity might be made known。 Still；
there would be stuff to excite her interest and suspicion。 Hawksley
had shown her some of that three hundred thousand probably。 What
a game！
He would say nothing about his own adventures and discoveries。 He
worked on the theory that the best time to tell about something was
after it had become a fact。 But no theory is perfect； and in this
instance his reticence was going to cost him intolerable agony in
the near future。
Within a quarter of an hour he was back in the living room。 Kitty
was out of sight； probably had curled up on the divan again。 He
would not disturb her。 Hawksley's wallet！ He drew a chair under
the reading lamp and explored the wallet。 Money and bonds he rather
expected； but the customs appraiser's receipt was like a buffet。
The emeralds belonged honorably to his guest！ All his own plans
were knocked galley…west by this discovery。
An odd sense of indignation blazed up in him； as though someone had
imposed upon him。 The sport was gone； the fun of the thing； it
became merely official business。 To appropriate a pair of smuggled
emeralds was a first…class sporting proposition； with a humorous
twist。 As it stood now； he would be picking Hawksley's pocket； and
he wasn't rogue enough for that。 Hang the luck！
Emeralds； rubies； sapphires； pearls； and diamonds！ No doubt many of
them with histories … in a bag hung to his neck … and all these
thousands of miles！ Not since the advent of the Gaekwar of Baroda
into San Francisco； in 1910； had so many fine stones passed through
that port of entry。
But why hadn't Hawksley inquired about them？ Stoic indifference？
A good loser？ How had he got through the customs without a lot of
publicity？ The Russian consul of the old regime probably； and an
appraiser who was a good sport。 To have come safely to his
destination； and then to have lost out！ The magnificent careless
generosity of putting the wallet behind Kitty's flatirons； to be
hers if he didn't pull through！ Why； this fiddling derelict was
a man！ Stood up and fought Karlov with his bare fists； wasn't
ashamed to weep over his mother's photograph； and fiddled like
Heifetz。 All right。 This Johnny Two…Hawks； as Kitty persisted in
calling him； was going to reach his Montana ranch。 His friend Cutty
would take it upon himself to see to that。
It struck him that after all he would have to play the game as he
had planned it。 Those gems falling into the hands of the Federal
agents would surely bring to light Hawksley's identity； and Hawksley
should have his chance。
Cutty then came upon the will。 Somehow the pathos of it went deep
into his heart。 The poor devil！ … a will that hadn't been witnessed；
the handwriting the same as that on the passport。 If he had fallen
into the hands of the police they would have justifiably locked him
up as a murder suspect。 Two…Hawks！ It was a small world。 He
returned the contents to the wallet； leaving out the will； however。
This he thrust into a drawer。
〃Coffee？〃 said Kitty at his elbow。
〃Kitty？ I'd forgotten you！ I thought I smelt coffee。 Just what I
wanted； too； only I hadn't brains enough left to think of it。 Smells
better than anything Kuroki makes。。。。 Tastes better； too。 You're
going to make some lucky duffer a fine wife。〃
〃Is there anything you can tell me； Cutty？〃
〃A whole lot； Kitty； only I'm twenty years too old。〃
〃I mean the wallet。 Who is he？〃
Cutty drained the cup slowly。 A good coherent lie； to appease
Kitty's curiosity； half a truth； something hard to nail。 He set
down the empty cup； building。 By the time he had filled his pipe
and lit it he was ready。
Something bored up through the subconscious； however … a query。 Why
hadn't he told her the plain truth at the start？ Wasn't on account
of the drums。 He hadn't kept her in the dark because of the drums。
He could have trusted her with that part of it … his tentative
piracy。 That to divulge Hawksley's identity would be a menace to
her peace of mind now appeared ridiculous； and yet he had worked
forward from this assumption。 No answer to the query。 Generally
he thought clearly enough； but somewhere along this route he had
made a muddle of things and couldn't find the spot。 The only point
clearly defined was that he should wish to keep her out of the
affair because there were elements of positive danger。 But somewhere
inside of him was a question asking for recognition； and it eluded
him。 Nothing could be solved until this question got out of the fog。
Even now he might risk the whole truth； but the lie he had woven
appeared too good to waste。
Human frailty。 The most accomplished human being is the finished
liar。 Never to forget a detail； to remember step by step the
windings； over a ticklish road。 And Cutty； for all his wide
newspaper experience； was a poor liar because he had been brought
up on facts。 Perhaps his lie might have passed had he not been so
fagged。 The physical labours of the night had dulled his
perceptions。
〃Ab； but that tastes good！〃 … as he blew forth a wavering ring of
smoke。
〃It ought to have at least one merit；〃 replied Kitty； wrinkling her
nose。 What a fine profile Cutty had！ 〃Now； who and what is he？
I'm dying to know。〃
〃An odd story； probably hundreds like it。 You see； the Bolsheviki
have driven out of the country or killed all the nobles and
bourgeoisie。 Some of them have escaped … into China； Sweden； India；
wherever they could find an open route。 To his story there are many
loose ends； and Hawksley is not the talking kind。 You mustn't repeat
what I tell you。 Hawksley； with all that money and a forged English
passport； would have a good deal of trouble explaining if he ran
afoul the police。 There is no real proof that the money is his or
Gregor's。 As a matter of fact； it is Gregor's； and Hawksley was
bringing it to him。 Hawksley is Gregor's protege。〃
Kitty nodded。 This dovetailed with what Johnny Two…Hawks had told
her that night。
〃How the two came together originally I don't know。 Gregor was in
his younger days a great violinist； but unknown to the American
public。 Early in his career he speculated with his concert earnings
and turned a pot of money。 He dropped the professional career for
that of a country gentleman。 He had a handsome estate； and lived
sensibly。 He sent Hawksley to England to school and spent a good
deal of time there with him； teaching him how to play the fiddle；
for which it seems Hawksley had a natural bent。 He had to Anglicize
his name； for Two…Hawks would have made people laugh。 To be a
gentleman； Kitty； one does not have to be a prince or a grand duke。
Gregor was a polished gentleman； and he turned Hawksley into one。〃
Again Kitty nodded； her eyes sparkling。
〃The Russ … the educated Russ … is a queer biscuit。 Got to have a
finger in some political pie； and political pies in Russia before
the war were lese…majesty。 The result … Gregor got in wrong with
his secret society and the political police and was forced to fly
to save his life。 But before he fled he had all his convertible
funds transferred。 Only his estate was confiscated。 Hawksley was
in London when the war broke out。 There was a lot of red tape；
naturally； regarding the funds。 I shan't bother you with that；
Hawksley； hoping to better his protector's fut