Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1914-11-07

when Jones knocked and was bidden to enter
You are not Hargreave."
Neither are you the Russian ministsz
of police" urbanely.
VINO are your"
81 am Hargreave's confidential man, sir.~
The two men eyed each other cautiously.
"You speak Russian?"
No. 1 am able to scribble a few words;
that is ALL"
The Russian lit a cigarette and smoked
leisurely. He was in no hurry.
No, I am not the minister; but I am
his accredited agent. 1 am empowered to
bring back to Russia a man who Is known
here by the name of Braine, another by the
name of Vroon, and q woman who calls
herself a countess and unfortunately IL one.
All desire is some damaging proof against
them that they outlaws in this country.
The rest will be simple"
They have all three taken out natural.
ization papers"
The Russian waved his hand airily. Once
they are in Russia those documents will
never come to light. This man Braine, it
has been learned, has long been In the pay
Of Prussia, and mas given the general STAFF
of that country many plans of our frontier
fortifcations. I do not know what any one
of the three looks like. That is why sought
Hargreave."
81 will gladly point them out to you," said
Jones, rubbing his hands together, q sign
that ne was greatly pleased.
"That will be very good Of you, Tn
sure" in q rumbling but perfectly legibls
English
"And suddenly they all three will dis
appear7"
Suddenly; and you may believe me that
from that time on they'll be heard Of never
more.'
"Al this sounds extremely agreeable to
me. Mr.. Hargreave will be happy to hear
that his long enforced hiding will soon come
to an end"
All you have to do, sir, is to point them
out to me-"
1t may take a week or ten days"
my government has waited for ten years
to gather in this deectable trio. A month,
if you like"
1.-THE sooner the better. 1 shall call this
Mr.. Braine; and generally wnere he is is
the woman. Vroon will be the most diff
cult"
After dinner then, since you know some
Of his haunts. There is u reward"
Jones laughed shortly. Keep 1t yourself,
sir. Mr.. Hargreave would willingly double
whatever this reward Is to eliminate these
despicable creatures from his affairs"
"Tnanks"
While this conversation was taking place
Norton idIed about; and feeling the cravings
for n cigarette, prepared to roll one, only
to find that he hadn't the "makings" So
fate urged him to step into the nearest to.
bacconist's. He asked for his favorite brand
and passed over the silver.
Braine and his companions saw Norton
enter the shop. 1t agreed with their plans
perfectly. The tobacconist happened to be
afiliated with the order. So they hurried
into the shop. Jim instantly realized that
he was in a trap.
How can I get out Of here?" he wais=
pered to the tobacconist.
The latter smiled. ct have to obey these
gentlemen. 1 don't know what they want
you for; but if made a move to help you
1 should find my own throat cut without
saving yours"
Il" The DEVIL"
Jim made a dash for the rear door, to
find it locked. Even as he fumbled with
the key, Braine and his companions flung
themselves upon the reporter ana overpoW-
cred him.
90 All frfa1d Train -
my friend Nortonl" jeered the victor.
"And wnat do you want; some pea6hss7"
&" A paper, my friend little sheet Of
paper with invisible writing on it. We prom
ise to give you something in exchange for itA
WHAT" asked Jim with as much nom
chalance as he could assume.
"Life."
Search" said Jim. I" You won't object to
my smoking?" He began to roll cigarette
while they passed over MIN. he struck a
match; the pleasant aroma Of tobacco Aoated
about his head.
He's got it on him somewhere. saw
him take it. He's got his nerve with him.
The cigarette gowed. Jim smoked hur-
riedly.
Through every pocket they went. The
contents of his wallet lay scattered at his
feet; his watch dangled from the chain The
cigarette grew shorter and shorter. Sud
denly one Of the men stretched out a hand
and whisked the cigarette from Jim's lips
He threw it to the floor and stamped out the
coal.
" thought SOL" he exclaimed, holding out
the scrap of burnt paper towards Braine.
The words "Dear Hargreave" were all
that remained of the message. With snarI
of rage Braine whipped out his revolver.
90 will give ynn one rninuta 10 ton M