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Updated: June 28, 2025
To the eye it had the appearance of a victory for Gregor and a defeat for Karlov, but Cutty had long ago ceased to believe his eyes without some corroborative evidence of auricular character. He had recognized both men. Karlov answered to Kitty's description as an old glove answers to the hand. And no man, once having seen Gregor, could possibly forget his picturesque head. The old chap was alive!
Underneath the official obligation there was a personal interest in not risking the game to warn Gregor. Cutty was now positive that the drums of jeopardy were hidden somewhere in this house. To perform three acts, then: Save Gregor, capture Karlov and his pack, and privately confiscate the emeralds. Findings were keepings. No compromise regarding those green stones.
She did not see the torch, the bayonet, and the mud. But the boy did with his English accent! How he escaped I don't know; but he died to-night, and the emeralds are in my pocket. See!" Karlov held the instrument close to the other's face. "Look at it well, this grand duke of fiddles. Look, fiddler, look!" The huge hands pressed suddenly.
Had the New York bomb squad known of the existence of this den, the short hair on their necks would have risen. "Well?" greeted Karlov, moodily. "I have found the man in the dress suit." "He and the Conover girl left that office building together this morning, and I followed them to Park Row. This man uses the loft of the building for his home. No elevator goes up unless you have credentials.
"Fiddlesticks! All I've got to do in danger is to press a button, and presto! here's Bernini." "Kitty, did Hawksley pay you for that meal?" "Good heavens, no! What makes you ask that?" "In his delirium he spoke of having paid you. I didn't know." Cutty's heart began to rap against his ribs. Supposing, after all, Karlov hadn't the stones?
It was the worst kind of news a summons to Washington for conference. Which signified that the Government's plans were completed and that shortly he would be on his way to Piraeus. A fine muddle! Hawksley in no condition to send upon his way; Kitty's affair unsettled; the emeralds still in camera obscura; Karlov at liberty with his infernal schemes, and Stefani Gregor his prisoner.
Karlov was ready at all times to expound the theories that appealed to his dark yet simple mind humanity overturned as one overturned the sod in the springtime to give it new life. "To give the proletariat what is his." "Ha!" said the little man on the cot. "What is his?" "That which capitalism has taken away from him." "The proletariat.
He was probably planning an attack from some unexpected angle. To be sure that Karlov would not find reason to associate him with Kitty, Cutty had remained indoors during the daytime and gone forth at night in his dungarees. Problem Two was quite as formidable. The secret agent who had passed as a negotiator for the drums of jeopardy had disappeared. That had sinister significance.
"I found an appraiser's receipt in your wallet. You carried some fine jewels. Did you hide them or did Karlov get them? It struck me as odd that you haven't inquired about them." The change that came into Hawksley's face alarmed Cutty. The rich olive skin became chalky and the eyes closed. "What is it? Shall I call Miss Frances?" "No." Hawksley opened his eyes, but looked dully straight ahead.
He had withdrawn his watchers, confident that after a day or so his unknown opponent would withdraw his. During the lull Karlov matured his plans, then resumed operations, calculating that he would have some forty-odd hours' leeway. His agent was clever. He had followed Kitty from Eightieth Street to the Knickerbocker Hotel. There he had lost her.
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