Mr. Fleck

"Sit down, won't you, Miss Strong," he said, placing a chair for her.

His manner and his cultured tone, everything about him, reassured her at once. They conveyed to her that he was what she would have termed "a gentleman," and with a little sigh of relief she seated herself.

"I'm afraid," said Mr. Fleck, smiling, "that Carter's method of approaching you must have alarmed you."

"Carter--Oh, the black-mustached man."

"Yes, that describes him. You see, he did not wish to act definitely without consulting his chief, yet the unexpected opportunity seemed far too vital not to be utilized. He did not explain, did he, what it was we wanted of you?"

"Indeed he didn't," said Jane, now wholly herself. "He was most mysterious about it."

Mr. Fleck smiled amusedly.

"Carter has been an agent so long that being mysterious is second nature to him."

"An agent--I don't understand."

"A Department agent," explained Mr. Fleck, adding, "engaged in secret service work for the government."

"Oh!"

Jane's exclamation was not so much of surprise as of delighted realization, and the satisfaction expressed in her face was by no means lost on Mr. Fleck.

"Would you object," he asked, moving his chair a little closer to hers, "if, before I explain why you are here, I ask you a few questions--very personal questions?"

"Certainly not," said Jane.

"You are American-born, of course?"

"Oh, yes."

"And your parents?"

"American for ten or twelve generations."