Kitty laughed. "Never call yourself old to me again. Are you always

doing these things?"

"Well, I keep moving. I suspected something like this might happen.

Those two will go to the Tombs to await deportation if they are aliens.

Perhaps we can dig something out of them relative to this man Gregor.

Anyhow, we'll try."

"Cutty, I saw a man in the court with a pocket lamp before I went to

bed. He was hunting for something."

"I didn't find anything but a lot of fresh food someone had thrown out."

"It was you, then?"

"Yes. There was a vague possibility that your protege might have thrown

out something valuable during the struggle."

"What?"

"Lord knows! A queer business, Kitty, you've lugged me into--my own!

And there is one thing I want you to remember particularly: Life means

nothing to the men opposed, neither chivalry nor ethics. Annihilation is

their business. They don't want civilization; they want chaos. They

have lost the sense of comparisons or they would not seek to thrust

Bolshevism down the throats of the rest of the world. They say democracy

has failed, and their substitute is murder and loot. Kitty, I want you

to leave this roost."

"I shall stay until my lease expires."

"Why? In the face of real danger?"

"Because I intend to, Cutty--unless you kidnap me."

"Have you any good reason?"

"You'll laugh; but something tells me to stay here."

But Cutty did not laugh. "Very well. Tomorrow an assistant janitor will

be installed. His name is Antonio Bernini. Every night he will whistle

up the tube. Whistle back. If you are going out for the evening notify

him where you intend to go and when you expect to be back. A wire from

your bed to his cot will be installed. In danger, press the button.

That's the best I can do for you, since you decide to stick. I don't

believe anything more will happen to-night, but from now on you will be

watched. Never come directly to my apartment. Break your journey two

or three times with taxis. Always use Elevator Four. The boy is mine;

belongs to the service. So our Bolshevik friends won't gather anything

about you from him."

As a matter of fact, Cutty had now come to the conviction that it would

be well to let Kitty remain here as a lure. He had urged her to leave,

and she had refused, so his conscience was tolerably clear. Besides, she

would henceforth be guarded with a ceaseless efficiency second only to

that which encompasses a President of the United States. Always some man

of the service would be watching those who watched her. This was going

to develop into a game of small nets, one or two victims at a time.

Because these enemies of civilization lacked coherence in action there

would be slim chance of rounding them up in bulk. But from now on men

would vanish--one here, a pair there, perhaps on occasion four or five.

And those who had known them would know them no more. The policy would

be that employed by the British in the submarine campaign--mysterious

silence after the evanishment.




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