Barres had meant to catch him. But he admitted to himself that he had gone about it very unskilfully. This added disgust to his smouldering wrath, but he realised that he ought to tell the story.

And after the rather subdued luncheon was ended, and everybody had gone out to the studio, he did tell it, deliberately including Dulcie in his audience, because he felt that she also ought to know.

"And this is the present state of affairs," he concluded, lighting a cigarette and flinging one knee across the other, "----that my friend, Thessalie Dunois, who came here to escape the outrageous annoyance of a gang of blackmailers, is followed immediately and menaced with further insult on my very threshold.

"This thing must stop. It's going to be stopped. And I suggest that we discuss the matter now and decide how it ought to be handled."

After a silence, Westmore said:

"You had your nerve, Garry. I'm wondering what I might have done under the muzzle of that pistol."

Dulcie's grey eyes had never left Barres. He encountered her gaze now; smiled at its anxious intensity.

"I made a botch of it, Sweetness, didn't I?" he said lightly. And, to Westmore: "The moment I suspected him he was aware of it. Then, when I tried to figure out how to get him into the studio, it was too late. I made a mess of it, that's all. And it's too bad, Thessa, that I haven't more sense."

She gently shook her head:

"You haven't any sense, Garry. That man might easily have killed you, in spite of your coolness and courage----"

"No. He was just a rat----"

"In a corner! You couldn't tell what he'd do----"

"Yes, I could. He _didn't_ shoot. Moreover, he legged it, which was exactly what I was certain he meant to do. Don't worry about me, Thessa; if I didn't have brains enough to catch him, at least I was clever enough to know it was safe to try." He laughed. "There's nothing of the hero about me; don't think it!"

"I think that Dulcie and I know what to call your behaviour," she said quietly, taking the silent girl's hand in hers and resting it in her lap.

"Sure; it was bull-headed pluck," growled Westmore. "The drop is the drop, Garry, and you're no mind-reader."

But Barres persisted in taking it humorously:

"I read that gentleman's mind correctly, and his character, too."

Then, to Thessalie: "You say you don't recognise him from my description?"

She shook her head thoughtfully.

"Garry," said Westmore impatiently, "if we're going to discuss various ways of putting an end to this business, what way do you suggest?"

Barres lighted another cigarette:

"I've been thinking. And I haven't a notion how to go about it, unless we turn over the matter to the police. But Thessa doesn't wish publicity," he added, "so whatever is to be done we must do by ourselves."

Thessalie leaned forward from her seat on the lounge by Dulcie:

"I don't ask that of you," she remonstrated earnestly. "I only wanted to stay here for a little while----"

"You shall do that too," said Westmore, "but this matter seems to involve something more than annoyance and danger to you. Those miserable rascals are Germans and they are carrying on their impudent intrigues, regardless of American laws and probably to the country's detriment. How do we know what they are about? What else may they be up to? It seems to me that somebody had better investigate their activities--this one-eyed man, Freund--this handy gunman in spectacles--and whoever it was who took a shot at you the other day----"

"Certainly," said Barres, "and you and I are going to investigate. But how?"

"What about Grogan's?"

"It's a German joint now," nodded Barres. "One of us might drop in there and look it over. Thessa, how do you think we ought to go about this affair?"

Thessalie, who sat on the sofa with Dulcie's hand clasped in both of hers--a new intimacy which still surprised and pleasantly perplexed Barres--said that she could not see that there was anything in particular for them to do, but that she herself intended to cease living alone for a while and refrain from going about town unaccompanied.

Then it suddenly occurred to Barres that if he and Dulcie went to Foreland Farms, Thessalie should be invited also; otherwise, she'd be alone again, except for the servants, and possibly Westmore. And he said so.

"This won't do," he insisted. "We four ought to remain in touch with one another for the present. If Dulcie and I go to Foreland Farms, you must come, too, Thessa; and you, Jim, ought to be there, too."

n.o.body demurred; Barres, elated at the prospect, gave Thessalie a brief sketch of his family and their home.

"There's room for a regiment in the house," he added, "and you will feel welcome and entirely at home. I'll write my people to-night, if it's settled. Is it, Thessa?"

"I'd adore it, Garry. I haven't been in the country since I left France."

"And you, Jim?"

"You bet. I always have a wonderful time at Foreland."

"Now, this is splendid!" exclaimed Barres, delighted. "If you disappear, Thessa, those German rats may become discouraged and give up hounding you. Anyway, you'll have a quiet six weeks and a complete rest; and by that time Jim and I ought to devise some method of handling these vermin."

"n.o.body," said Thessalie, smiling, "has asked Dulcie's opinion as to how this matter ought to be handled."

Barres turned to meet Dulcie's shy gaze.

"Tell us what to do, Sweetness!" he said gaily. "It was stupid of me not to ask for your views."

For a few moments the girl remained silent, then, the lovely tint deepening in her cheeks, she suggested diffidently that the people who were annoying Thessalie had been hired to do it by others more easy to handle, if discovered.

There was a moment's silence, then Barres struck his palm with doubled fist:

"_That_," he said with emphasis, "is the right way to approach this business! Hired thugs can be handled in only two ways--beat 'em up or call in the police. And we can do neither.

"But the men higher up--the men who inspire and hire these rats--they can be dealt with in other ways. You're right, Dulcie! You've started us on the only proper path!"

Considerably excited, now, as vague ideas crowded in upon him, he sat smiting his knees, his brows knit in concentrated thought, aware that they were on the right track, but that the track was but a blind trail so far.

Dulcie ventured to interrupt his frowning cogitation:

"People of position and influence who hire men to do unworthy things are cowards at heart. To discover them is to end the whole matter, I think."

"You're absolutely right, Sweetness! Wait! I begin to see--to see things--see something--interesting----"

He looked up at Thessalie:

"D'Eblis, Ferez Bey, Von-der-Goltz Pasha, Excellenz, Berlin--all these were mixed up with this German-American banker, Adolf Gerhardt, were they not?"