The Drums of Jeopardy

"Kitty, what's the matter with you? You look dazed about something."

"How do you clean a pipe?" she countered, irrelevantly.

"Clean a pipe?" he repeated, nearly overbalancing his chair.

"Yes. You see, I may make up my mind to marry a man who smokes a pipe,"

said Kitty, desperately, eager to steer Burlingame into another channel;

"and certainly I ought to know how to clean one."

"Kitty, I'm an old-timer. You can't sidetrack me like this. Something

has happened. You say you had a great time in the country, and you come

in as pale as the moon, like someone suffering from shell shock. Ever

since Cutty came in here that day you've been acting oddly. You may not

know it, but Cutty asked me to send you out of town. You've been in some

kind of danger. What's the yarn?"

"So big that no newspaper will ever publish it, Burly. If Cutty wants to

tell you some day he can. I haven't the right to."

"Did he drag you into it or did you fall into it?"

"I walked into it, as presently I shall walk out of it--all on my own.

"Better keep your eyes open. Cutty's a stormy petrel; when he flies

there's rough weather."

"What do you know about him?"

"Probably what he has already told you--that he is a foreign agent of

the Government. What do you know?"

"Everything but one thing, and that's a problem particularly my own."

"Alien stuff, I suppose. Cutty's strong on that. Well, mind your step.

The boys are bringing in queer scraps about something big going to

happen May Day--no facts, just rumours. Better shoot for home the

shortest route each night and stick round there."

There are certain spiritual exhilarants that nullify caution, warning

the presence of danger. The boy with his first pay envelope, the lover

who has just been accepted, the debutante on the way to her first ball;

the impetus that urges us to rush in where angels fear to tread.

At a quarter after five Kitty left the office for home, unaware that

the attribute designated as caution had evaporated from her system. She

proceeded toward the Subway mechanically, the result of habit. Casually

she noted two taxicabs standing near the Subway entrance. That she

noted them at all was due to the fact that Subway entrances were not

fortuitous hunting grounds for taxicabs. Only the unusual would have

attracted her in her present condition of mind. It takes time and

patience to weave a good web--observe any spider--time in finding a

suitable place for it; patience in the spinning. All that worried Karlov

was the possibility of her not observing him. If he could place

his taxicabs where they would attract her, even casually, the main

difficulty would be out of the way. The moment she turned her head

toward the cabs he would step out into plain view. The girl was

susceptible and adventuresome.