Jack Sainsbury watched all this in grim silence. What he had overheard in the boardroom of the Ochrida Copper Corporation rang ever in his ears. More than once he had sat in Sir Houston Bird's quiet, sombre consulting-room, and the pair had discussed the situation. Both agreed that the clever masquerade being played by Rodwell and his baroneted puppet was, though entertaining, yet a highly dangerous one. But without being in possession of hard, indisputable facts, how could they act? The British public had hailed Lewin Rodwell as a fine specimen of the truly patriotic Englishman, little dreaming of him being a wolf in sheep's-clothing. To all and every charitable appeal he subscribed readily, and to his small, snug house in Bruton Street came many of the highest in the land. Alas! that we always judge a man by his coat, his cook, his smiles and his glib speeches. Put a dress-suit upon the biggest scoundrel who ever stood in the dock at the Old Bailey--from Smith who murdered his brides in baths downwards--and he would pass as what the world calls "a gentleman."One evening in December--the ninth, to be exact--there had been a big dinner-party at Sir Boyle's, in Berkeley Square, and afterwards Trustram had accompanied Rodwell home to Bruton Street in a taxi for a smoke.

As the pair--the spider and the fly--sat together before the fire in the small, cosy room at the back of the house which the financier used as his own den, their conversation turned upon a forthcoming meeting at the Mansion House, which it was intended to hold in order to further arouse the Home Office to a true sense of the danger of allowing alien enemies to be at liberty.

"I intend to speak quite openly and plainly upon the subject," declared Rodwell, leaning back in his chair and blowing a cloud of cigar-smoke from his lips.  "The time has now passed for polite speeches.  If we are to win this war we must no longer coddle the enemy with Donnington Hall methods.  The authorities know full well that there are hundreds of spies among us today, and yet they deliberately close their eyes to them.  To me their motto seems, `Don't aggravate the Germans.  They are such dear good people.'  The whole comedy would be intensely humorous--a rollicking farce--if it were not so terribly pathetic.  Therefore, at the meeting, I intend to warn the Government that if some strong measure is not adopted, and at once, the people themselves will rise and take matters into their own hands.  There'll be rioting soon, if something is not done--that's my firm conviction," and in his dark eyes was a keen, earnest look, as he waved his white hand emphatically.  Truly, Lewin Rodwell was a clever actor, and the 

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