away from him with a forceful gesture.

"Inspector:" he called suddenly; but a moment having passed
without response, he went on in his sharp-cut tones, "How do you
think you would like police work?"

"I believe I should."

"The Captain" shuffled for a moment one of several stacks of
unfolded letters on his desk.

"Well, it's the most thankless damned job in Creation," he went
on, almost dreamily, "but it certainly gives a man much touch with
human nature from all angles, and--well, I suppose we do some
good. Somebody's got to do it, anyway."

"Of course I suppose it would depend on what class of police work
I got," I put in, recalling the warning of the writer of my letter
of introduction that, "You may get assigned to some dinky little
station and never see anything of the Zone,"--"I'm better at
moving around than sitting still. I notice you have policemen on
your trains, or perhaps in special duty languages would be--"

"Yes, I was thinking along that line, too," said "the Captain."

He rose suddenly from his chair and led the way into an adjoining
room, busy with several young Americans over desks and
typewriters.

"Inspector," he said, as a tall and slender yet muscular man of