“Can’t you make it ten?”

  “I fancy not, my friend.”

  “I have expenses, you know. A part of mine goes to—er—our friend who makes the flash-lamp possible.”

  “That is your business,” Kenderdine said. “It was a part of our bargain that you find a safe way to convey the information to me.”

  “And how do you pass it on?” Hamlin asked. “That is what surprises me. One of those trains started early in the morning and was wrecked at night five hundred miles away. And you don’t dare use the telegraph!”

  “I have little ways of my own, and clever men to help me. It pays to be clever, my friend. And before we go further, I must be assured of your own cleverness. I cannot afford to have suspicion attach to me through some careless act of yours. This little matter is but one of many I have in hand for my country. I am too valuable to be—er—put out of the way by your government.”

  “I guess I am clever enough.” Hamlin snarled. “I’m not liable to make a mistake, when it would mean disaster to me as well as to you. Give me the five thousand and let me get back to the city.”

  “Very well!”

  Kenderdine took a packet from his pocket and placed it in Hamlin’s hands.

  “Try to think of some better way of getting the money,” Kenderdine said. “This is too risky. We might meet here two times with safely, and the third time might be disastrous.”

  Brooks watched Hamlin put the packet of money into an inside pocket and button his coat. He knew that Betty Burns was still within a few feet of him, and wondered what her share in this was to be. And then he heard the brush crack and knew that she had moved.

  Had he known the truth then he would have made an effort to stop her, but he did not know. The girl sprang to her feet before him and darted to the door of the cabin. Brooks, from the middle of the path, saw her stop in the doorway, and heard the exclamations of the men she faced.

  “So this is the way of it!” Brooks heard her say.

  IV

  Kenderdine was the first of the men to speak. “Who is this girl?” he demanded of Hamlin.

  “She—she is Miss Burns.”

  “The one to whom the cards have been sent?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what does her presence here mean?”

  “I—I do not know,” Hamlin gasped.

  Kenderdine faced the girl.

  “What are you doing here, young lady?” he demanded. “It is rather peculiar, is it not, for you to be in such a place after midnight?”

  “Perhaps,” she assented. “And is not what you are doing peculiar?”

  “I fail to understand this situation,” Kenderdine said, looking at Hamlin once more.

  “The girl does not know,” the traffic manager said in a low tone.

  “Ah! Is that so, or is it possible you two are attempting what you Americans call the double-cross? I presume the young lady is after money, too? You Americans appear to have an abnormal appetite for money.”

  ‘But I do know!” Betty Burns cried. “I know that I have been made a tool by scoundrels. I know the horrible things you have been doing.”

  “Quiet, I beg of you!” Kenderdine commanded.

  But his command fell upon deaf ears. Standing in the doorway, Betty Burns made a picture of defiance, with the candlelight playing over her pretty face, which now expressed anger and determination.

  “I know you for spy and traitor!” she said. “I know that Mr. Hamlin has done the worst thing a man can do—he has been a foe to his own country, and has helped send brave men to death. Oh, I know it all now!”

  “Do you, then, know so much?” Kenderdine sneered.

  “It seemed very simple when Mr. Hamlin spoke to me about it first. I would be working for my country, he said. Because of enemy spies, the news regarding the movement of troop-trains had to be carried in unusual ways. Only a few persons knew the truth, he said. And because I was his trusted private secretary. I was to help.”

  “And you did!” insinuated Kenderdine.

  “I was merely to wear red and white carnations,” she went on. “On certain days I would receive a card through the mail. It would have the words ‘Red and White’ printed on it, and below and above them a row of letters. On some days the letters would be ‘C,’ and on others ‘M.’ If the letter was ‘C’ I was to wear the carnations on my left lapel, if ‘M,’ on the right. And I had merely to go into a certain drug-store just after the noon hour and make a purchase, being sure to remain in the store for five or ten minutes. That was all. In some mysterious way a certain message would be forwarded.”

  “Very pretty!” Kenderdine commented.

  “And I did it!” the girl went on. “I thought I was serving my country, helping protect our troops—and I was helping slay them! And my own big brother is in the army! He has been in the army for years—dear black sheep of the family that he is! He never sent us money, though I suppose he had little enough to spare. And we used to think he didn’t amount to much. But since the war came we have been proud of him. He is in the army, a regular.”

  “Interesting!” Kenderdine sneered.

  “How can you talk like that? Do you realize what you have been doing? A hundred men to-day, the papers say! And I have been helping!

  “I began to grow suspicious. It seemed that every troop-train the road handled was wrecked. And Mr. Hamlin began acting peculiarly. I—I watched him. To-night I followed him. I saw him go to that drug-store. I waited for him to come out. And while I was waiting I noticed the red and white light in the window. I suppose I’d never have noticed it except for the red and white cards and carnations. I saw that it was flashing peculiarly. The rest was easy!”

  “Easy?” Hamlin cried.

  “My brother is in the signal corps— where my younger brother will be when he is old enough. I know both the Continental and Morse codes. I learned them from my brother once when he had a furlough and came home. And I kept brushed up on them after I began working for the railroad, Mr. Hamlin is responsible for that. When he engaged me be told me that I should interest myself in everything pertaining to railroading, if I wished to be advanced. So it didn’t take me long to guess that the ‘C’ on the card meant Continental, and ‘M’ meant Morse, and that sometimes one code would be used and sometimes the other, as a matter of precaution.”

  “Ah!” said Kenderdine, and glanced at Hamlin.

  “And I read the red and white dashes, and found that there was to be a meeting here to¬night I read, too, while information was sent, that a train would be moved early in the morning. I knew what that meant—another wreck, more soldiers maimed and killed. And so I came here—”

  “To get money?” Kenderdine insinuated.

  “Money? You think I would take money?” she cried. “I came to learn the truth. And I have heard some, and guessed some. You mailed cards to me, and I wore carnations accordingly. I went into that drug-store, and somebody watching for me there knew whether to use Continental or Morse that night. I knew Mr. Hamlin could use the code, of course—he was a telegrapher once. And there must be somebody else, for some of those messages were sent from the store window when Mr. Hamlin was not at the store. I can guess that he telephoned the information to somebody there. He didn’t dare go too often himself. You all were so very careful to protect yourselves. And you made me your tool!”

  “Well, what is to be the outcome?” Kenderdine asked “Let us have done with heroics and get down to business.”

  “She knows—she’ll tell!” Hamlin gasped. His face was ashen, his hands trembling. “We’ll go to jail!”

  “To a firing squad, more than likely,” Kenderdine admitted. “That is—if the knowledge is allowed to get out.”

  “You—what do you mean?” Hamlin asked.

  “Dangerous persons should be removed. Who is this girl? Is she so important that we must go to death rather than send her there?”

  “You would commit murder?” Hamlin cried.

  “I am working for my country. Even if I escaped, my flight would ruin many well-laid plans and put government officials on guard. I am afraid that the young woman must not be allowed to tell her story.”

  He got up from the box as he finished speaking, and Betty Burns recoiled a step. But Kenderdine caught her by an arm and whirled her inside the cabin.

  “If you rebel at such a thing, Hamlin, you had better start for the city now,” he said. “I will not need any help.”

  “I’ll not be a party to murder!”

  “I fear that it is necessary. The young lady says she did not come here for money, and she appears sincere.”

  “I’ll not have anything to do with it!”

  “Do you wish to allow her to return to the city and tell what she knows? Do you want to be known as a traitor, to face a firing squad?”

  “A traitor!” Betty Burns cried, her eyes flaming into Hamlin’s. “Traitor to your country, and to the railroad you serve! And you have preached to me of loyalty to the road. A traitor—you a railroad man! The first railroad man in the world, in my life, to play such a part!”

  “Enough of this!” Kenderdine cried; and Brooks sensed the change in his mood. “Make up your mind, Hamlin! Either help me, or go back to the city and leave me to do this thing alone! We’ll be safe, man! A grave on this forsaken island never will be found, and, if it should be by accident, nobody ever will know the guilty man. It’ll be just another mysterious disappearance of a girl. You can sympathy with the family, help them financially—”

  Hamlin got up from the box. Jimmie Brooks grasped an automatic pistol and crept nearer the door.

  V

  Listening to the girl’s recital, Jimmie Brooks had seen the plot instantly. These precious scoundrels, fearful of discovery, had been careful to remain away from each other. By means of the little cards Kenderdine had sent word from time to time to change from one code to another. Betty Burns, not realizing what she was doing, had received those cards and had worn red and white carnations accordingly.

  She had walked into Baker’s drug-store. Some person there had noticed the carnations and had known what code to use. In some manner information about the troop-trains was conveyed to this person. At night he flashed the light in the store window—and Kenderdine, in his suite across the street, read the information conveyed.

  Through prepared channels, Kenderdine passed the word on—and soldiers died in wreckage. Perhaps Hamlin had worked that flashlight at times, perhaps some other man. Baker, the druggist, must be an accomplice, Brooks thought. There was a gang, of course: such a big thing could not be handled by a couple of men. Brooks was eager to know certain things—how Baker was implicated, and how the information regarding the trains was sent from the railroad offices to the drug¬store. The latter may have been done over the telephone, of course. A few words would suffice.

  Brooks admired the pluck and loyalty of Betty Burns, but he found himself wishing he could have stopped her before she confronted the men in the cabin. Not knowing they had been discovered, they might have led him to where the remainder of the gang was.

  But now that she was in danger, Jimmie Brooks did not hesitate. He knew that Kenderdine was the sort of man who would not stop short of murder when not to slay meant the ruination of his plans and threatened his freedom.

  Crouching just outside the doorway in the darkness, Brooks waited. He did not have long to wait. Hamlin walked to the door, and there stopped and turned.

  “I—I wish there was some other way,” he stammered.

  “Don’t be a fool!” Kenderdine exclaimed. “Either help me, or get away from here!”

  Betty Burns jerked away, but Kenderdine had her in his grasp again instantly, and now he clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the cries she was about to voice. Jimmie Brooks grasped his automatic firmly, thumb on the safety catch, and stepped nearer the doorway.

  “There must be some other way,” Hamlin said.

  “Go, you fool! And forget the entire business!” Kenderdine commanded. “Keep your wits about you, and you’ll never come under suspicion.”

  “You sha’n’t do it!” Hamlin cried.

  He turned upon Kenderdine like an angry beast. Kenderdine hurled the girl to a corner of the cabin and sprang at Hamlin’s throat. Jimmie Brooks knew that Hamlin was no match for the other man, and he feared that Kenderdine might decide to do a couple of murders this night. He didn’t want Hamlin killed. He wanted him a prisoner, a frightened prisoner who might break down under the third degree and name his accomplices.

  Jimmie Brooks stepped inside the door calmly and leveled his automatic.

  “Hands up, gentlemen!” he requested, in a hard voice. “It isn’t necessary for you to murder each other. I’ll do all the violence that’s to be done here to-night!”

  They whirled to face him, falling away from each other. In Hamlin’s face was a look of wonder, in Kenderdine’s an expression of cold rage. A squeal of thankfulness came from Betty Burns in the corner.

  Ordinarily, an armed man can control two others upon whom he has the “drop,” but not always when the others face ignoble death for their crimes. Hamlin fell back a step, his hands high above his head, and made no other move.

  “Who is this?” Kenderdine snarled.

  “I happen to be connected with the United States government,” Jimmie explained. “I am here because you dropped a little card out of your window at noon. It struck my hat, and I read it. Afterward I saw your pleasure when you recovered it. That set me to thinking of ‘red and white’ with this result.”

  “So! A Secret Service man?”

  “Call me whatever you like,” Jimmie said. “I fancy you gentlemen are at the end of your ropes.”

  “Not yet!” Kenderdine screamed, and sprang!

  Jimmie Brooks was watching for that spring, and was ready to put a bullet where it would disable but not kill. And in the instant when his finger was ready to press the trigger, he saw that Betty Burns was in the line of fire. In that same instant Kenderdine was upon him.

  Kenderdine was a powerful man. Jimmie Brooks knew that he would have no time to strike his antagonist a telling blow on the head with the butt of the automatic, and he feared that he might be overcome and Kenderdine get possession of the weapon. He tossed it quickly at the feet of Betty Burns as he clashed with the spy.

  “Take it—watch Hamlin!” he cried.

  The girl was quick to comply. She snatched the gun up from the floor and turned to cover the traffic manager with it. And Hamlin remained standing against the wall, his hands high above his head, taking no part in the fray. The girl’s flashing eyes warned him that a move would mean a shower of bullets.

  Years before Jimmie Brooks had learned that, when it became necessary to fight, it behooved a man to fight with his whole will and power. He lashed into Kenderdine like a maniac, yet did not forget what science he knew in his display of brute force, He fought Kenderdine back to the wall of the cabin as a whirlwind tosses a tumbleweed. But, the first surprise of his vigorous onslaught over, he found that Kenderdine was something of a fighter himself. He, too, coupled brute strength with science. Foot by foot he fought Jimmie Brooks back to the center of the cabin again, trying to come into a clinch—the thing that Brooks was eager to avoid.

  Neither made a sound; it was a battle of determined men. From the corners of his eyes, Brooks saw that Betty Burns was still holding Hamlin at bay, and Kenderdine, noticing the same thing, gave up all hope that the traffic manager would aid him.

  Now he had Brooks at bay in a corner, but Jimmie eluded the strong arms that sought to clasp him, and whirled into the middle of the cabin again. Kenderdine charged—and slipped. Brooks planted two blows in the approved place, and Kenderdine measured his unconscious length on the floor.

  Brooks reeled away from him, gasped for breath, and then stumbled forward again. He snapped handcuffs on the wrists of the prostrate man and glanced around for something with which to secure him better. There was an old fish-net in a corner; he used a part of that. It made clumsy bonds, but served. And then he whirled toward the traffic manager.

  “I’ll just take that automatic, now. Miss Burns,” he said. “Thanks for holding him off while I attended to the other man. He’s a precious scoundrel, isn’t he? We’ll just tie his hands behind him and trot him down to the motor-boat he came here in. We’ll put Kenderdine in with him and run back to town, and hand them over. And I’ll see that you have your pretty picture in the newspapers, young lady.”

  “Oh, it is so dreadful!” she said. “And I—I played a part in it, you know!”

  “An innocent part! I heard your little recital. I’m quite sure your name need not be mentioned in connection with this case. The gentleman standing against the wall with his hands in the air probably will have the good sense to make a simple confession that will not involve you. If he does not, and we have to present evidence his sentence will be greater, naturally.”

  Hamlin was wetting his lips with his tongue, and there was a peculiar expression on his face. Jimmie Brooks believed it as expression of bewilderment because he had been caught.

  “Think of it! A railroad man a traitor to his country!” Betty Burns cried, “And think what he has done!”

  “I fancy we’d better take our prisoners back to the city. It is rather late to be out,” Brooks said. “By the way, you must pardon me, Miss Burns. I suspected you for a time. I’ll explain all that later. Now we’ll—”

  “Great Scott!” exclaimed a voice at the door.

  VI

  Jimmie Brooks had been in many a narrow place during his career. He had trained himself to think and act quickly. And he had been taught that one of the greatest crimes is to lose a prisoner after taking one.

  So now he whirled around so that his back was against the wall, and he continued to cover Hamlin while he took in the scene in the doorway, ready to battle new foe if it proved necessary, wondering if accomplices had arrived at an inopportune time.

  Just inside the door stood a railroad detective he knew. Framed in the doorway behind him were half a dozen faces—more railroad operatives. Jimmie Brooks gave a sigh of relief and allowed a slight smile to play about his lips.