line he had taken was, surely, sufficiently bold to remove from him any suspicion of German birth, or of double-dealing.

"Yes, I quite agree," declared Trustram enthusiastically.  "We know well enough at the Admiralty that the most confidential information leaks out to the enemy almost daily, and--"

"And what can you expect, my dear fellow, when we have so many Germans and naturalised Germans here in our midst?" cried Rodwell, interrupting.  "Intern the whole lot--that's my idea."

"With that I entirely agree," exclaimed Trustram, of course believing fully in his friend's whole-hearted sincerity.  "There are far too many Germans in high places, and while they occupy them we shall never be able to combat their craftiness--never!"  Lewin Rodwell fixed his cold, keen eyes upon the speaker, and smiled inwardly with satisfaction.

"My poor friend Dr Jerrold held exactly similar views," Trustram went on.  "Dear old Jerrold!  He was ever active in hunting out spies.  He assisted our Secret Service in a variety of ways and, by dint of diligent and patient inquiry, discovered many strange things."

"Did he ever really discover any spies?" asked Rodwell in a rather languid voice.

"Yes, several.  I happen to know one case--that of a man who collected certain information.  The documents were found on him, together with a pocket-book which contained a number of names and addresses of German secret agents in England."  Rodwell instantly became interested.

"Did he?  What became of the book?  That surely ought to be most valuable to the authorities--eh?"

"It has been, I believe.  But, of course, all inquiries of that nature are done by the War Office, so I only know the facts from Jerrold himself.  He devoted all the time he could snatch from his profession to the study of spies, and to actual spy-hunting."

"And with good results--eh?  Poor fellow!  He was very alert.  His was a sad end.  Suicide.  I wonder why?" asked Rodwell.

"Who knows?" remarked the other, shrugging his shoulders.  "We all of us have our skeletons in our cupboards.  Possibly his might have been rather uglier than others?"

Rodwell remained thoughtful.  Mention of that pocket-book, of which Jerrold had obtained possession, caused him to ponder.  That it was in the hands of the 

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