are a violent people—some of them," he commented quickly.
"You are going into town to-morrow?" I heard him ask Miss Brixton, as they walked slowly down the wide hall to the conservatory a few moments later.
"What do you think of him?" I whispered to Kennedy.
I suppose my native distrust of his kind showed through, for Craig merely shrugged his shoulders. Before he could reply Mr. Brixton joined us.
"There's another one—just came," he ejaculated, throwing a letter down on the library table. It was only a few lines this time:
"The bonds will not be subject to a tax by the government, they say. No—because if there is a war there won't be any government to tax them!"
The note did not appear to interest Kennedy as much as what he had discovered. "One thing is self-evident, Mr. Brixton," he remarked. "Some one inside this house is spying, is in constant communication with a person or persons outside. All the watchmen and Great Danes on the estate are of no avail against the subtle, underground connection that I believe exists. It is still early in the afternoon. I shall make a hasty trip to New York and return after dinner. I should like to watch with you in the den this evening."
"Very well," agreed Brixton. "I shall arrange to have you met at the station and brought here as secretly as I can."
He sighed, as if admitting that he was no longer master of even his own house.
