Although Mlle. Valon was personally unknown to me, five out of every ten of these women were invariably known to the Secret Service branch of the Continental police. My suspicions as to her confirmed, it was an even chance that I might be able to place her. I procured two snapshots of her and a specimen of her handwriting. These I forwarded to the chief of the sections in Vienna and Berlin, with a request to wire any possible information about her. Within forty-eight hours I had a reply. Mlle. Valon was well known to the Austrian police as a one-time keeper of a fashionable gambling resort in Galicia. She had left the country hurriedly after a stabbing affray. She was known in Crakau as Paula, and she was wanted by the police. I engineered my next meeting with Mlle. Valon to be alone. After presenting her with a box of perfumes, I said abruptly: "This is a change from Crakau, Paula." It is always wise to smash right out, and not to put the other on guard through leading questions, and the trick had the desired effect. She recoiled. To your high American standards of chivalry, it may seem brutal to take advantage of a woman in this way, but it had to be done. Moreover, these women are absolutely conscienceless themselves. "Grand Dieu! Who are you?" "That does not concern you ma fille, I know that and a good deal more. Austria would be very glad to know where you are. Shall I tell them?" She had recovered to an extent. "What is your price for not telling?" I replied: "Let Russia slip this once, gain me the information I seek and nothing further shall be said." Her air of surprise was perfect. "Russia? I know nothing at all about Russia." I smiled, walked to her desk where there was a silver tray, and picked up a sugared rose. "You're clever, Paula, but careless. Know nothing about Russia, yet have acquired a taste for the fine candies of the Moscovites? Remarkable, Paula." She bit her lips. "What do you want?" "Now before we begin, Paula,"--that name seemed to vex her--"let it be understood that there is to be no double dealing here. It would be an easy matter for you to have me legitimately assassinated." She would do that in this way: She would tell one of her many admirers that I had insulted her. One morning I would come downstairs to be slapped in the face before a hotel full of people and what could I do? It would be a case of pistols and I would get a bullet. "Remember," I cautioned her, "if anything happens to me here--and if they in Vienna do not hear from me every six hours, on the seventh you will be arrested. You will be arrested on an Imperial Austrian warrant. Your friends in here, army officers, though they are, will not dare to help you. Servia will not take the chance of angering Austria by refusing to acknowledge the imperial warrant. Remember, Paula, there is now an Austrian army on the Servian border." The look she gave me was venomous.