The Drums of Jeopardy - Page 174/202

"I understand," said Kitty, her heart trying to burst through. It seemed

impossible that Karlov should not hear the thunder. To placate him, to

answer his questions, to keep him from growing angry!

"I thought you would." Karlov set the candle on Kitty's impromptu

stepladder. "We saw your interest in the affair, and attacked you on

that side. You had seen me once. Being a newspaper writer--the New York

kind--you would not rest until you learned who I was. You would not

forget me. You were too well guarded uptown. You have been out of

the city for a week. We could not find where. You were reported seen

entering your office this morning; and here you are. My one fear was

that you might not see me. Personally you will have no cause to worry.

No hand shall touch you.

"Thank you for that."

"Don't misunderstand. There is no sentiment behind this promise. I

imagine your protector will sacrifice much for your sake. Simply it is

unnecessary to offer you any violence. Do you know who the man is your

protector is shielding?"

Kitty shook her head.

"Has he played the fiddle for you?"

"Yes."

Karlov smiled. "Did you dance?"

"Dance? I don't understand."

"No matter. He can play the fiddle nearly as well as his master. The two

of them have gone across the world fiddling the souls of women out of

their bodies."

Kitty sat down weakly on the plank. Terror from all points. Karlov's

unexcited tones--his lack of dramatic gesture--convinced her that this

was deadly business. Terror that for all the promise of immunity they

might lay hands on her. Terror for Johnny Two-Hawks, for Cutty.

"Has he injured you?" she asked, to gain time.

"He is an error in chronology. He represents an idea which no longer

exists." He spoke English fluently, but with a rumbling accent.

"But to kill him for that!"

"Kill him? My dear young lady, I merely want him to fiddle for me," said

Karlov with another smile.

"You tried to kill him," insisted Kitty, the dryness beginning to leave

her throat.

"Bungling agents. Do know what became of them--the two who invaded your

bedroom?"

"They were taken away the police."

"So I thought. What became of the wallet?"

"I found it hidden on the back of my stove."

"I never thought to look there," said Karlov, musingly. "Who has the

drums?"