8 MY horse; my love. 



midnight assassin, marched him off to the police 

 station. There I told my story of his attempt upon 

 my life and saw my affidavit written down, while 

 in the bright light I recognized a certain Russian 

 spy from the third chamber of government detec- 

 tives." 



You mean to say you recognized a spy from 

 Russia in a police station in America? 



"Certainly, madam." 



Then they were in collusion to take your life ! 



" Doubtless. Leaving the poniard as a proof and 

 witness against the spy, I was told to come in the 

 morning. Incredible as it may seem, when I went 

 the next day, instead of the ready recognition I had 

 every right to expect, I was met by the stolid, in- 

 different question, *Who are you?' I answered the 

 query by asking another: 'Where is the man, the 

 murderer, I brought here last night with a broken 

 arm and the poniard he meant to slay me with?' 

 They vouchsafed me no other answer than 'We 

 know nothing about him.' I asked for the book in 

 which I had seen the record written, but only a 

 frayed edge of paper indicated where it had been 

 torn out, and even the blotter was destroyed." 



What did you do and say? 



" In deepest indignation I realized that bribery 

 and lies had triumphed, and that the spy had been 

 allowed to escape. Turning to the officer I said, 

 'You see this pistol and these cartridges with which 

 I load it, and this knife? These arms I carry in 

 self-defence, and the next time I bring you, not 

 broken bones, but a dead man. ' " 



