"Father!" she exclaimed, clinging to him.

"What's this?" he demanded sternly, eying the man. It was
Wachtmann himself.

"Conrad saved me from that chauffeur of his," explained Miss
Brixton. "I met him on the train, and we were going to ride up to
the house together. But before Conrad could get into the car this
fellow, who had the engine running, started it. Conrad jumped into
another car that was waiting at the station. He overlook us and
dodged in front so as to cut the chauffeur off from the ferry."

"Curse that villain of a chauffeur," muttered Wachtmann, looking
down at the wounded man.

"Do you know who he is?" asked Craig with a searching glance at
Wachtmann's face.

"I ought to. His name is Kronski, and a blacker devil an
employment bureau never furnished."

"Kronski? No," corrected Kennedy. "It is Professor Kumanova, whom
you perhaps have heard of as a leader of the Red Brotherhood, one
of the cleverest scientific criminals who ever lived. I think
you'll have no more trouble negotiating your loan or your love
affair, Count," added Craig, turning on his heel.

He was in no mood to receive the congratulations of the
supercilious Wachtmann. As far as Craig was concerned, the case
was finished, although I fancied from a flicker of his eye as he