he was yearning to come to grips with those who would rob him of the
hopes in which his whole being was bound up.




CHAPTER III

IDEPSKI


The two men reached the office on the hillside minutes before the mail
carrier. They took the hill direct, passing hurriedly through the aisles
of scented woods which shadowed its face. The other, the stranger, was
left with no alternative but the roadway, zigzagging at an easier
incline.

Standing passed into the house. His confidential man of many races
looked up from his work. The quick, black eyes were questioning. He was
perhaps startled at the swift return of the man whom he regarded above
all others.

Standing spoke coldly, emphatically.

"There's a man coming along up. He's a sailorman, and he's dressed in
dirty dungaree, and he's carrying a sack of mail. Now see and get this
clearly, Loale. It's important. It's so important I can't stand for any
sort of mistake. When he comes you've got to send him right into my room
with the mail-bag. I want him to take it in _himself_. You get that?"