After that there was another lapse of years during which Jimmy had visited South Africa, had married, had drifted to New York with his wife, had been sent to Sing Sing, had been divorced, and then, according to official reports concerning him, had died and was buried on an island in Long Island Sound. During these years Juno had served the Nihilists of Russia, the Socialists of Germany, the secret societies of other nations—during which she had been a spy, also, for these several governments, and had won an international reputation, and become almost everything that a beautiful woman should not be. But the continent of Europe, and the British Isles, had grown too hot for her. She came to America—and almost the first person she encountered after leaving the steamer that brought her here, was Bare-Faced Jimmy. And this happened within the year that followed upon his supposed death. “Two souls with but a single thought,” although by no means a sentimental one, might well have applied to them; the single thought being their desire to victimize the rest of mankind. “Let’s strike up a partnership, Juno,” Jimmy had said to her. “Together, with your craftiness and my skill, nothing can stop us. Let’s strike up a partnership;” and she had replied: “Very good, Jimmy; but a minister, not a lawyer, shall draw the contract.” And so they were married—strangely enough, under their right names, too. Jimmy had more than twenty thousand dollars cached away in a secret hiding place; Juno possessed half as much more. The marriage occurred in the late fall, and they went South, to one of the Florida beaches, where they secured a villa, and where they passed what was really a honeymoon. When issuing from their cottage door one morning, they had found the insensible form of a man upon their doorstep. One may be a crook, a burglar, and all that, and still possess much kindness of heart; two may be so, and these two were. Together they carried their unconscious burden inside the cottage, summoned the one servant who waited upon their wants, and attended to the stricken man. They did not ask where he came from, nor how it happened that he had fallen upon their doorstep in his present condition; and he could not have informed them, then, if the questions had been asked. But they ministered to him; they kept him there and cared for him, making no inquiries concerning him, since by doing so they would have attracted attention to themselves, which was the one great thing they desired to avoid. But the stricken man had arrived at the end of his journey. He had fallen upon their doorstep to die, and die he did, after three weeks, easily, painlessly, composedly, and tenderly cared for until the last, by these two bits of flotsam.