silent about the others. I mean it. Here: I tear it up now and
give you the pieces to burn!"

Warren, maddened by his fears, nervously tore the sheets into
bits and pressed the remnants into the criminologist's hands.

"Will you promise to keep my identity a secret?"

"I will not send word to Budapesth. You have a bad record in
Paris, and other parts of the world. But, if you play fair on
the confidential nature of this case, saving the innocent from
disgrace and shame, I will see that the story never reaches your
mother. There is no need to ask this on your honor--that does
not count."

Warren winced at this final thrust. He turned toward Shirley,
eagerly.

"You don't understand me at that, Shirley. I have had a curious
career. Somewhere I inherited a strain of criminality--you know
how many ancestors a man has in ten generations. I was a member
of a poor but prominent family. The government paid for my
education in the best universities of Europe, for I was to hold a
position under the Emperor, which had been held in my family for
generations. But I was ruined by the extravagances and the
excesses which I learned from the rich young men whom I met. I
studied feverishly, yet was able to waste much time with the
gilded fools, by my ability to learn more quickly. The result
was that I could not be contented with the small salary of my
government office. I had to keep up appearances with my