Stoneham returned from a lecturing tour in the West, dispirited, and with a frank confession of failure. He presented himself at Grant’s rooms just as the latter was finishing breakfast.

“I’ve bad news, old chap,” he declared at once. “I’ve done my best, and I guess I’ve made about as much impression upon my audiences as if Pussyfoot Johnson had come back to life and were preaching prohibition once more. They won’t have it at any price.”

Grant pushed a box of cigars across the table and rang for a waiter to remove his tray.

“‘America outside’ still their motto, eh?” he observed, as he drew a chair up to the open window.

“You see,” Stoneham went on, “they’ve never forgotten what a triumph it was for American diplomacy that our people, in those days, refused all invitations to join the Genoa Conference. We scored immensely all round by remaining outside, and you know what a general muddle that affair ended in. The fact of it is,” he continued, selecting and lighting his cigar, “our people over here have never regained their faith in British diplomacy since those days. They can’t see that they stand to be hurt in any way by remaining outside, and they can see that they might be drawn into a lot of trouble if they got involved in some of these economic disputes. We make our own rules now and play our own game, and we’re the richest country in the world. It’s a pretty hard situation to shake. Grant.”

Grant was less perturbed than his companion had imagined possible.

“I’ve talked with Cornelius Blunn, since you’ve been away,” he announced, “I’ve heard the same story from him. I believe he’s right. I believe you’re right. I believe that if the matter were to be decided upon to-day, the invitation to join the Pact would be rejected by an overwhelming majority. Fortunately, the meeting of the Limitation of Armaments is to come first.”

“Sure, but what difference does that make?” Stoneham enquired.

“It’s going to make all the difference,” Grant assured him. “I’m on the track of things already, and the Conference doesn’t take place for another month.”

“Am I to be wise to this?”

“You are. But we’ve got to move warily. Blunn can afford to be good-natured about our fight against him so far as it has gone. He knows very well that his propaganda department is in perfect order. He can practically count his votes. He knows that on a fight as things are at present, we haven’t a chance. The moment he realises that we are getting round his flanks, though, he’ll be dangerous. Dan, you remember my telling you about Cleo, the little dancing girl, who used to go about with Count Itash?”

“Quite well.”

“Well, Itash has brought the other girl over here. Cleo has followed, and Cleo paid me a visit the day before yesterday. She gave me a hint and I verified it. She is coming here again this morning.”

“Do you trust her?” Stoneham asked doubtfully. “Do you think it really likely that a man like Itash would have told her secrets.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Grant agreed. “But this is the point. Itash has a habit of which he is ignorant. He talks in his sleep. Cleo admits that she thought nothing of it, at first;—that she did not even listen. Then some of the things he said struck her as being strange. Finally she understood. He was worrying over a failure of his to keep secret two great contracts for steel given last year and the year before. I followed this up. It happened to be rather in my line. What about this for a bombshell, Dan? Japan bought steel plates enough in Germany during the last two years to build every scrap of naval armament to which she was entitled. She also bought from different firms in America, some in the name of China, and some in her own name, three times the same quantity of steel, all of which was shipped.”

“But, say, how could she get away with a thing like that?” Stoneham asked incredulously.

“Largely bluff. The steel plates from Germany she declared faulty and announced her intention of using them for factory construction. Germany, with unusual complacency, actually admitted at the last meeting of the Limitation of Armaments that the plates were unfit for battleships, and, nominally, received a large compensation. This is the first little hint Mademoiselle Cleo has given me, Dan, and by the time I get my despatches in from Japan—I have a good man out there, thank God—I think I shall be able to give the Limitation of Armaments Conference a shock. Cleo has a few other little matters to tell me about, too.”

“Say, this is great!” Stoneham exclaimed. “Pity you couldn’t have got her to make a complete disclosure while she was about it.”

“I did my best,” Grant assured him. “I offered her everything in the world except my hand and fortune, and I don’t think she’d have accepted those. She’s simply crazy over this fellow Itash. She’s going slowly in case he relents.”

Stoneham, with a start, sat upright in his............