“No, no,” the elder sister besought. “Take me. She’s only a child; don’t spoil her life. I’ll do whatever you like; it doesn’t matter about me. For God’s sake don’t do anything to my little sister.” “She’s guilty,” he reminded her, “and the law says--” “If somebody pays, what difference does it make to you or the law? Isn’t there anything I can do?” she pleaded. Taylor paced up and down the room for a half minute before answering, while the two watched him in agony. To them he was one who could deliver them over to prison if it were his whim, or spare if he inclined to mercy. “Surely there is some way out?” Ethel asked again. “Yes,” he said, “there is. You can accept my proposition to enter the secret service of the United States Customs.” “Oh, yes, yes,” she cried, “anything!” Taylor rubbed his hands together with satisfaction and pride in his inimitable craft. “Now you’re talking!” he exclaimed. “Then we won’t send the little sister to prison.” Amy sobbed relief in her sister’s arms. “Then you won’t tell Bronson?” Ethel asked. “No,” he said, “I won’t tell Bronson.” Ethel sighed, and felt almost that she would faint. “Now I’m sorry for you two,” Taylor said more genially, “and as long as you do what I tell you to, we’ll leave the little matter of the jewels as between your sister and her conscience. I’ll let you know when I need you. It may be to-night, it may be not for a month or a year, but when I do want you--” “I shall be ready,” the girl declared. “Say, Chief,” Duncan said looking in at the door,-- “Get out, I’m busy,” Taylor shouted. “I thought you’d like to know the Mauretania was coming up the bay,” his satellite returned, slightly aggrieved at this reception. “She is?” said the other. “Wait a minute then. Now, Miss Cartwright, good afternoon. Remember what is at stake, your future, and your sister’s happiness. And don’t forget that my silence depends on your not failing me.” Only a man of Taylor’s coarse and cruel mould could have looked at her without remorse or compunction. He did not see a beautiful refined woman cheerfully bearing another’s cross. He saw only a society girl, who had matched her immature wits against his and lost, was beaten and in the dust. There was a pathetic break in her voice as she answered him. “I shall not fail you,” she said. Duncan closed the door after them. “Well?” Taylor demanded eagerly when they were alone. “Did Denby declare the necklace?” “No, sir,” Duncan returned promptly. “Then I was right,” the other commented. “He’s trying to smuggle it in. Jim, this is the biggest job we’ve ever handled.” “Ford and Hammett are at the dock all ready to search him when I give the word.” Duncan was sharing in his chief’s triumph, but Taylor’s next command was disappointing. “Don’t give the word,” he enjoined. “There’s to be no search.” “No search?” exclaimed the chagrined Duncan.