The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-01-25

theSe was the Legion of Honor. "Y eS, I am Anatole Ferraud''
 That Is all desire to know''
 Shall we return tO the ladies ?'' ask ed NJ. Ferraud. restoring his treasures
 Since there Is nothing more to be said at present. It seems strange to me that foreign politics should find its way here.'
 Politics? am only a butterfly hunter"
 ''The-e are varieties But you are the man. I shall find out:''
 Possibly returned NJ Ferraud thinking hard
 "I give you fair warning that if anything is missing"-
 ~Oh. NIT. Fitzgerald!''
 "I shall know where to look for it. with smile which had no humor in 1t.
 why nor denOunce me now?''
 Would it serve your purpose?''
 No" with deeper gravity. Ut would be a great disaster: how great 1 can not tell you.''
 Then. shall say uothing''
 About whatF' dryly. even vyhfm- sicaIly.
 About your being a secret agent from France"
 This time M. Ferraud's glance proved that he was truly startled. Only three times in his career had his second life been questioned or suspected. Should he trust this young man? With that swift unerring instinct which makes the perfect student of character. he said. You will do me a great favor not to impart this suspicion to any one else''
 ''Suspicion2''
 ''It Is true: am d secret agent;'' and he snid it proudly.
 You wish harm to none here2''
 ''No. 1 am here for the very purpose of saving you all from heartaches and misfortune and disiIlusion And had ! set to work earlier l should have ac- complished nll this without single one of you knuwing 1t. Now the matter will have to go on to ifs end"
 Gan you tell me anytring?"
 ''Not now trust you. Will you trust me?'
 Fitzgerald hesitated for a space ''Yes."
 "For that. thanks" and M. Ferraud put out hand. ''It is clean. Mir Fitz- gerald. for all that rhe skin is broken"
 ''Of that l have no doubt"
 BDGlOTG we EGdGu SOESlGd you VIII know"
 And so temporarily that ended the matter. But as Fitzgerald went over to the chair just vacated by the secre- tary. he found that there was a double zeSt to life now. This would be far more exciting than dodging ice foes and freezing ones toes.
 Laura told him the news. Their xl time for dinner.
 It was Breitmann's habit to come down first. He would thrum a little on the piano or take down some old volume. Tonight it was Heine. He had not met any of the guests yet, which he considered a piece of good fortune. But God only knew what would happen when she saw him. He dreaded the moment. dreaded it with anguish. She was a woman. schooled in acting. but a time comes when the best acting is not sufficient. If only in some way he might have warned her: but no way had opened She would find him ready. however, ready with his eyes,. his lips. his nerves. What would the others think or say if she lost her presence of mind? His teeth snapped. He read on. The lamp threw the light on the scared side of his face
 He heard some one enter, and his gaze stole over the top of his book. This person was a woman. and her eyes travelled from object to object with a curiosity tinged with that i'm certitude which attacks us all when we enter an unfamiIiar room. She was dressed in black. showing the white arInS and neck. Her hair was like ripe wheat after rainStorm: oh. but he knew well the color of her eyes, blue as the Adriatic. She was a wo- man of perhaps thirty. matured, grace ful. handsome. The sight of her ex- cited a thrill In his veins. deny it how he would.
 She scanned the long rows Of books, the strange weapons. the heroic and sinister flags. the cases Of butterflies. With each inspection she stepped nearer and nearer. till by reaching out his hand he might have tourhed her. Quietly he rose. 1t was a critt- cal moment.
 She was startled She had thought she was alone.
 'Iardon me- she said. in a low. musical vUIce: ''I did Ynot know, that any one was here" And then she saw his face. Her own Dianched and her hands went to her heart ''karIT'
 CHATTER XII.
 THE DRAMA BEGINS. ~H HE swayed little. but recover