Then, taking out his pocketbook, he handed the eager youth a hundred-dollar bill.

"Keep this matter all to yourself, Emil," he gravely said.
"I will let you off now for a couple of weeks.

Then I will take you on again and will see if these 'spotters' are still on duty.
I will look out for you, and see you promoted." When the boy had departed, Randall Clayton sank back in his chair.
"Whatever happens," he musingly decided, "I will never expose Irma to the dangers of this espionage.

They may have other agents by day, who knows! And, if I wish to safely meet her, it must be over there." His thought were wandering far away across the black, flowing tide of the East River, where the Brooklyn Bridge was now traced in line of living light against the darkness of night.
Over there, beyond the gloomy river warehouses, with their forests of masts, across the swiftly rushing tide seeking the unknown sea, the graceful Queen of his awakened heart was hidden from him.

"I shall find her out; nothing shall part us; she shall hear me yet; she shall learn to look for my coming, and she shall open the gates of her home to me.