"Why won't you?"

"Because I can't dawdle over this affair."

The girl smiled at him in her attractive, resolute way:

"Unless we find that book we can't decipher this letter. The letter
comes from Mexico,--from that German-infested Republic. It is
written to a man of German parentage and it is written in cipher.
The names of Luxburg, Caillaux, Bolo, Bernstorff are still fresh in
our minds. Every day brings us word of some new attempt at sabotage
in the United States. Isn't there ANY way, Mr. Vaux, for us to
secure the key to this cipher letter?"

"Not unless we go up and knock this man Lauffer on the head. Do you
want to try it?"

"Couldn't we knock rather gently on his head?"

Vaux stifled a laugh. The girl was so pretty, the risk so
tremendous, the entire proceeding so utterly outrageous that a
delightful sense of exhilaration possessed him.

"Where's that gun?" he said.

She drew it out and handed it to him.

"Is it loaded?"