Evening star., 1918-01-20

ter to Gen. Gomez" he cried. Good
Lord. Branch. Were you ever shot at
sunrise?"&
The reported coughed dismally.
"N-no! It's too damp. l suppose you
mean to hint I'd better destroy that
letter, eh?"
Just as quickly as possible. Where
is it?"
''In my room.''
Hmm. Then I'm not sure you'll
have chance to destroy it." O'Reilly
was thinking rapidly. From what l
was told I suspect you are being watch
ed even there"
Bullets. 1 thought as much
Would you mind using some other
oath?" O'Reilly broke out. irritably.
I've always considered bullets weak
and ineffective, butt has a signifl-
cance."
There's a new lodger in the room
next to me. I've heard him moving
around. I'll bet he's got a peephole
in the wall" Branch was visibly ex-
cited.
quite likely. I have the same kind
of neighbor; that is, he is watching
US now"
Leslie cast a hostile eye at the man
his friend indicated. Looks like mis-
cradle spy, doesn't he? But, say, how
am going to make away with that let
ter"
I'm trying to think" said Johnnie.
and the two strolled out. Johnnie was
still thinking.
When the two arrived at Branch's
quarters O'Reilly scrutinized the room
as closely as he dared, and then sat
for some time idly gossiping. Both men
were under a considerable strain, for
they thought it more than likely that
hostile eyes were upon them. 1t gavn
them an uncomfortable thrill; and
while 1t seemed simple thing to burn
that letter of introduction. they real
fzed that If their suspicious were cor
rect such a procedure would only serve
to deepen their difficulties. Nothing
they could later say would explain to
the satisfaction of the authorities so
questionable an act. The mere destruc-
tion of a mysterious document. particu-
larly at this late hour, would look alto
gether too queer; it might easily cause
their complete undoine. Inasmuch as
his enemies were waiting only for an
excuse to be rid of him. O'Reilly knew
that deportation was the least he could
expect. and at the thought his fin
gers itched to hold that letter over the
lamp-chimney.
Imprisonment, almost any punishment,
was better than deportation. That
would mean beginning all over again.
While he was talking he used his
eyes, and finally a plan suggested it
self. To make doubly sure that his
words would not be understood he in
quired. casually:
do you speak any foreign Ian
guages?"
Sure! Spanish and-hog Latin"
In spite of himself O'Reilly grinned;
then making use of that incoherent de-
rangement of syllables upon the use
of which every American boy prides
himself. he directed Branchs attention
to the tiles of the roof overhead.
The reporters wits were sharp: his
eyes Frightened; he nodded his instant
understanding. The house had but one
story. its roof was constructed of the
common, half-round Cuban tiling, each
piece about two feet long. These tiles
were laid in parallel rows from ridge
pole to cave. and these rows were lock-
ed together by other tiling laid bottom
side up over them. Where the convex
faces of the lower layer overlapped,
numerous interstices due to imperfec-
tions in manufacture; more than one
of these was large enough to form a
hiding place for a letter
Continuing to disguise his language.
OReilly directed his companion to open
the table drawer in which the unwel-
come document reposed and to see that
it was where he could instantly lay
hands upon it in the dark Branch
did as he was told
For some time longer they talked;
then they rose as If to leave the room.
OReilly took his stand near the door
and directly beneath the most promiS-
ing ~crevice in the roof, which at this
point was perhaps nine feet from the
floor.
Branch stopped over the table and
breathed into the lamp chimney: the
room was plunged into darkness. There
followed faint rustling of paper; the
next instant he was at O'Reilly's side.
the knees and lifted him. There was
the briefeSt pause: then feeling q pinch