"Very well, I will go," consented Kennedy.

At the street door Kharkoff stopped short and drew Kennedy back.
"Look - across the street in the shadow. There is the man. If I
start toward him he will disappear; he is very clever. He followed
me from Saratovsky's here, and has been waiting for me to come out."

"There are two taxicabs waiting at the stand," suggested Kennedy.
"Doctor, you jump in the first, and Jameson and I will take the
second. Then he can't follow us."

It was done in a moment, and we were whisked away, to the chagrin
of the figure, which glided impotently out of the shadow in vain
pursuit, too late even to catch the number of the cab.

"A promising adventure," commented Kennedy, as we bumped along over
New York's uneven asphalt. "Have you ever met Saratovsky?"

"No," I replied dubiously. "Will you guarantee that he will not
blow us up with a bomb?"

"Grandmother!" replied Craig. "Why, Walter, he is the most gentle,
engaging old philosopher - "

"That ever cut a throat or scuttled a ship?" I interrupted.

"On the contrary," insisted Kennedy, somewhat nettled, "he is a
patriarch, respected by every faction of the revolutionists, from
the fighting organisation to the believers in non-resistance and