quick writer. Then I am going to tell all that she said about Israel Kensky."
"You can tell that in a second," said Malcolm sternly, and the little man raised a lofty hand.
"Don't get up in the air."
"Why have they sent you back now?"
"To ask a question or two," said Cherry.
He put on his coat, examined the interior of his hat thoughtfully, and jammed it down on his head.
"Ten minutes are supposed to elapse," he said melodramatically, "passed in light and airy conversation about a book—the 'Book of—of"
" 'All-Power'?" said Malcolm.
"That's the fellow. I should say it's the history of this darned place. Here they come."
He pulled down his coat, brushed his sleeves and stepped forward briskly to meet the English-speaking officer.
They passed an anxious two hours before he returned, and, if anything, he was more solemn than ever. He made no reply to their questions, but paced the room, and then he began to sing, and his tune had more reason than rhyme.
"Look through the grating," he chanted, "see if anybody is watching or listening, my honey, oh my honey!"
"There's nobody there," said Malcolm after a brief inspection.
