Hetherington smiled grimly.
“Practically that,” he admitted. “It’s dangerous work, no doubt; but there is a spice of excitement to it that makes it worth while.”
“Besides which, someone has to do the work, I suppose,” suggested Frank.
“Precisely. Every one of the great powers has its set of secret agents. The peace of Europe has been saved more than once by these men. The game goes on daily, and our safety depends entirely upon our keeping our identity secret. More than one man has disappeared, never to be heard of again.”
“You don’t mean that they were assassinated?” demanded Jack.
“Exactly; nine times out of ten, when a secret agent is caught, his life pays the forfeit. Sounds barbarous, doesn’t it?” and Hetherington smiled.
“It certainly does,” replied Frank. “I thought the days of barbarism had passed.”
“Well, to tell the truth, England and France have given up such practice. Germany, Austria, and even Russia, in some cases, continue the old custom. So you may see why the life of a secret agent is not all roses.”
“I should say no roses at all,” declared Jack. “But go on with your story.”
“Well,” said Hetherington, “the situation is this, but,” and the speaker paused, “in case you haven’t political conditions in Europe at your finger-tips, I guess I had better explain how the great European powers are lined up.