silence。 There was a pause； and then the ring of steel upon the
stone floor。 There was another pause； and Monica heard the
voice of her brother。 Broken； as though with running； it still
retained its level accent； its note of insolence。
〃So；〃 it said； 〃I have caught you？〃
Monica struggled toward the lighted vault； but around her Everett
threw his arm。
〃Come away！〃 he begged。
Monica fought against the terror of something unknown。 She could
not understand。 They had come only to prevent a meeting between
her brother and Peabody； and now that they had met； Everett was
endeavoring to escape。
It was incomprehensible。
And the money in the vault； the yellow bills hanging from a
cobweb of strings； why should they terrify her； what did they
threaten？ Dully； and from a distance； Monica heard the voice
of Peabody。
〃No；〃 he answered； 〃I have caught you！ And I've had a hell of a
time doing it！〃
Monica tried to call out； to assure her brother of her presence。
But； as though in a nightmare； she could make no sound。 Fingers
of fear gripped at her throat。 To struggle was no longer possible。
The voice of Peabody continued：
〃Six months ago we traced these bills to New Orleans。 So we guessed
the plant was in Central America。 We knew only one man who could
make them。 When I found you were in Amapala and they said you had
struck 'buried treasure'the rest was easy。〃
Monica heard the voice of her brother answer with a laugh。
〃Easy？〃 he mocked。 〃There's no extradition。 You can't touch me。
You're lucky if you get out of here alive。 I've only to raise my voice〃
〃And； I'll kill you！〃
This was danger Monica could understand。
Freed from the nightmare of doubt； with a cry she ran forward。
She saw Peabody； his back against a wall； a levelled automatic in
his hand； her brother at the entrance to a tunnel like the one from
which she had just appeared。 His arms were raised above his head。
At his feet lay a revolver。 For an instant； with disbelief； he stared
at Monica； and then； as though assured that it was she； his eyes
dilated。 In them were fear and horror。 So genuine was the agony
in the face of the counterfeiter that Everett； who had followed；
turned his own away。 But the eyes of the brother and sister
remained fixed upon each other； hers； appealingly； his； with
despair。 He tried to speak； but the words did not come。 When
he did break the silence his tone was singularly wistful； most
tenderly kind。
〃Did you hear？〃 he asked。
Monica slowly bowed her head。 With the same note of gentleness
her brother persisted：
〃Did you understand？〃
Between them stretched the cobweb of strings hung with yellow
certificates； each calling for five hundred dollars； payable in gold。
Stirred by the night air from the open tunnels； they fluttered and
flaunted。
Against the sight of them； Monica closed her eyes。 Heavily； as
though with a great physical effort； again she bowed her head。
The eyes of her brother searched about him wildly。 They rested on
the mouth of the tunnel。
With his lowered arm he pointed。
〃Who is that？〃 he cried。
Instinctively the others turned。
It was for an instant。 The instant sufficed。
Monica saw her brother throw himself upon the floor； felt herself
flung aside as Everett and the detective leaped upon him； saw her
brother press his hands against his heart； the two men dragging
at his arms。
The cavelike room was shaken with a report； an acrid smoke
assailed her nostrils。 The men ceased struggling。 Her brother lay
still。
Monica sprang toward the body； but a black wave rose and
submerged her。 As she fainted； to save herself she threw out her
arms； and as she fell she dragged down with her the buried
treasure of Cobre。
Stretched upon the stone floor beside her brother； she lay motionless。
Beneath her； and wrapped about and covering her； as the leaves
covered the babes in the wood； was a vast cobweb of yellow bills；
each for five hundred dollars； payable in gold。
A month later the harbor of Porto Cortez in Honduras was shaken
with the roar of cannon。 In comparison； the roaring of all the cannon
of all the revolutions that that distressful country ever had known；
were like fire…crackers under a barrel。
Faithful to his itinerary； the Secretary of State of the United States
was paying his formal visit to Honduras； and the President of that
republic； waiting upon the Fruit Company's wharf to greet him； was
receiving the salute of the American battle…ships。 Back of him； on
the wharf； his own barefooted artillerymen in their turn were saluting；
excitedly and spasmodically； the distinguished visitor。 As an honor
he had at last learned to accept without putting a finger in each ear；
the Secretary of State smiled with gracious calm。 Less calm was the
President of Honduras。 He knew something the Secretary did not
know。 He knew that at any moment a gun of his saluting battery
might turn turtle； or blow into the harbor himself； his cabinet； and
the larger part of his standing army。
Made fast to the wharf on the side opposite to the one at which
the Secretary had landed was one of the Fruit Company's steamers。
She was on her way north； and Porto Cortez was a port of call。
That her passengers might not intrude upon the ceremonies； her
side of the wharf was roped off and guarded by the standing army。
But from her decks and from behind the ropes the passengers； with
a battery of cameras； were perpetuating the historic scene。
Among them； close to the ropes； viewing the ceremony with the
cynical eye of one who in Europe had seen kings and emperors
meet upon the Field of the Cloth of Gold； was Everett。 He made
no effort to bring himself to the attention of his former chief。 But
when the introductions were over； the Secretary of State turned
his eyes to his fellow countrymen crowding the rails of the
American steamer。 They greeted him with cheers。 The great
man raised his hat； and his eyes fell upon Everett。 The Secretary
advanced quickly； his hand extended； brushing to one side the
standing army。
〃What are you doing here？〃 he demanded。
〃On my way home； sir；〃 said Everett。 〃I couldn't leave sooner； there
werepersonal reasons。 But I cabled the department my resignation
the day Mendoza gave me my walking…papers。 You may remember；〃
Everett added dryly； 〃the department accepted by cable。〃
The great man showed embarrassment。
〃It was most unfortunate；〃 he sympathized。 〃We wanted that treaty；
and while； no doubt； you made every effort〃
He became aware of the fact that Everett's attention was not
exclusively his own。 Following the direction of the young man's
eyes the Secretary saw on the deck just above them； leaning upon
the rail； a girl in deep mourning。
She was very beautiful。 Her face was as lovely as a violet and as shy。
To the Secretary a beautiful woman was always a beautiful woman。
But he had read the papers。 Who had not？ He was sure there must
be some mistake。 This could not be the sister of a criminal； the
woman for whom Everett had smashed his career。
The Secretary masked his astonishment； but not his admiration。
〃Mrs。 Everett？〃 he asked。 His very tone conveyed congratulations。
〃Yes；〃 said the ex…diplomat。 〃Some day I shall be glad to present
you。〃
The Secretary did not wait for an introduction。 Raising his eyes
to the ship's rail； he made a deep and courtly bow。 With a gesture
worthy of d'Artagnan； his high hat swept the wharf。 The members
of his staff； the officers from the war…ships； the President of
Honduras and the members of his staff endeavored to imitate his
act of homage； and in confusion Mrs。 Everett blushed becomingly。
〃When I return to Washington；〃 said the Secretary hastily； 〃come
and see me。 You are too valuable to lose。 Your career〃
Again Everett was looking at his wife。 Her distress at having been
so suddenly drawn into the lime…light amused him； and he was
smiling。 Then； as though aware of the Secretary's meaning； he
laughed。
〃My dear sir！〃 he protested。 His tone suggested he was about to
add 〃mind your own business；〃 or 〃go to the devil。〃
Instead he said： 〃I'm not worrying about my career。 My career has
just begun。〃
THE BOY SCOUT
A rule of the Boy Scouts is every day to do some one a good turn。
Not because the copybooks tell you it deserves another； but in
spite of that pleasing possibility。 If you are a true scout； until
you have performed your act of kindness your day is dark。 You
are as unhappy as is the grown…up who has begun his day without
shaving or reading the New York Sun。 But as soon as you have
proved yourself you may； with a clear conscience； look the world
in the face and untie the knot in your kerchief。
Jimmie Reeder untied the accusing knot in his scarf at just ten
minutes past eight on a hot August morning after he had given one
dime to his sister Sadie。 With that she could either witness the
first…run films at the Palace； or by dividing her fortune patronize
two of the nickel shows on Lenox Avenue。 The choice Jimmie
left to her。 He was setting out for the annual encampment of
the Boy Scouts at Hunter's Island； and in the excite