to Berlin, and then even you fire-eaters may safely trust it to the Wilhelmstrasse. If it should happen, however, that the British Government has the invention, His Royal Highness tonight will try to get enough out of Edestone to enlighten Berlin, and in that way we shall at least get an even break. That is, always provided that Edestone has not a lot of the completed articles, whatever they may be, at the Little Place in the Country. That would put us in bad again, and it will be up to Count Bernstoff to attend to it from the New York end." "Of course, Mr. Rebener," said the proprietor, "we can do nothing until we hear from His Royal Highness, but I am satisfied that he will say Edestone must not be allowed to go to Downing Street tomorrow to continue his negotiations, unless in some way we can get hold of this secret tonight." "Well, I'll be damned if I'll--!" started Rebener angrily, when he was interrupted by the proprietor, who holding his finger to his lip, said: "Please, Mr. Rebener, please! Always remember that the service on which we are engaged has no soul and a very long arm." Then dropping into the persuasive and servile tone of the _maitre d'hotel_: "I propose, Mr. Rebener, that you allow me to send you up a nice little lunch, some melon, say, a _salmon mayonnaise_ or a _filet du sole au vin blanc_ and a _noisette d'agneau_ and a nice little sweet, and you must try a bottle of our Steinberger Auslese '84. "And Smith," he turned to the humbler agent, "you had better get in touch with 4782, who is reporting to His Royal Highness every hour. His last message was that Edestone is still with Underhill, so you get down to the Admiralty and report to me here as often as you can. Edestone will probably lunch quietly alone somewhere, as I know that all of his friends are at the front, but don't lose him until you turn him over to Mr. Rebener tonight at 8 o'clock." His eyes narrowed as they followed the skulking figure of the architect out of the room. "That fellow needs watching," he muttered to Rebener. "He has lost his nerve. He is not a true German anyhow. But if he makes a false step, 4782 knows what to do and you can depend upon him to do it. We do not know who he is, but he is a gentleman, if not a nobleman, and he will kill or die for his Emperor." Smith, in the meantime, had gone down the service stairs and out at the rear of the hotel. He was thoughtful, and when he was settled in his taxi, after having directed the chauffeur where to drive, he said to himself: "They are going to kill him tonight unless they get that machine, or else can fix it so that Rockstone doesn't get it tomorrow, that is if Underhill hasn't got it already. I wish I'd never started this