league with this gang of Bolsheviki,--and I am also certain that I owe
my life to the boast I made of being a murderer myself!..."

19. The following entry reads:

"A man who has escaped death is not to be trusted on a point of
discretion,--he doesn't know how to select his friends. He is like a
spirit emerging from nowhere in the eternal void and grabs at the
first apparition that promises companionship in his embarrassing and
momentary isolation.... Well, I was so glad to see that Buckingham
Clorinda that I was willing to take her into my confidence at once....
She _seemed_ so sympathetic!... 'I commend your bravery,' she said
prettily, offering me her hand.... It was small and beautifully
moulded, yet firm and steady, and sent an electric thrill through me
like a flash.... Her eyes would disarm the most suspicious diplomatic
free-lance in the world.... Struck with admiration, hypnotized by her
voice, I could only blurt, 'I thank you.'

"...'We are looking for a man of approved courage,' she continued
earnestly; 'we are more than satisfied that YOU are the man.'... Again
I muttered my thanks.... 'How long have you been a member?' she then
asked carelessly.... THIS was not so easily answered.... I thought
quickly.... 'Long enough to KNOW my lesson!' I answered oracularly....
'You still remember your instructions?'... 'What instructions?' She
answered my question by asking, 'Were they not BURNED?'... 'Who is
this encyclopædic lady?' I asked myself. 'What manner of TRAP is she
setting for me now?'... 'Why did you SANDBAG me?' was MY answer....
'You are NOT to ask questions,' she returned. 'Are you not satisfied
with results?'...