Problem Two was quite as formidable. The secret agent who had passed
as a negotiator for the drums of jeopardy had disappeared. That had
sinister significance. Karlov did not intend to sell the drums; merely
wanted precise information regarding the man who had advertised for
them. If the secret-service man weakened under torture, Cutty recognized
that his own usefulness would be at an end. He would have to step aside
and let the great currents sweep on without him. In that event these
fifty-two years would pile upon his head, full measure; for the only
thing that kept him vigorous was action, interest. Without some great
incentive he would shrivel up and blow away--like some exhumed mummy.

Problem Three. How the deuce was he going to fascinate Kitty if he
couldn't see her? But there was a bit of silver lining here. If
he couldn't see her, what chance had Hawksley? The whole sense and
prompting of this problem was to keep Kitty and Hawksley apart. How this
was accomplished was of no vital importance. Problem Three, then, hung
fire for the present. Funny, how this idea stuck in his head, that
Hawksley was a menace to Kitty. One of those fool ideas, probably, but
worth trying out.

Problem Four. That night, all on his own, he would make an attempt
to enter that old house sandwiched between the two vacant warehouses.
Through pressure of authority he had obtained keys to both warehouses.
There would be a trap on the roof of that house. Doubtless it would be
covered with tin; fairly impregnable if latched below. But he could find
out. From the third-floor windows of either warehouse the drop was not
more than six feet. If anywhere in town poor old Stefani Gregor would be
in one of those rooms. But to storm the house frontally, without being
absolutely sure, would be folly. Gregor would be killed. The house was
in fact an insane asylum, occupied by super-insane men. Warned, they
were capable of blowing the house to kingdom come, themselves with it.