“Well done, brother,” repeated Senov. “You do not need your mask in here. Take it off.”
Slowly, the man removed his mask. At the same moment, he raised his revolver. A sharp, bewildered cry escaped Senov’s lips as he saw the face of the man whom he had termed “brother.”
He was staring into the eyes of Ivan Motkin!
Senov was trapped by his archenemy!
CHAPTER XV. THREE FACTIONS FIGHT
MEN of three factions were in this room. Ivan Motkin, agent of the Moscow Reds, had captured Michael Senov, the leader of the Czarist invaders who had rifled the Bolshevik storage vault. With Senov, Motkin had taken an unknown stranger — an American whose connection with this case was hazy.
The situation, as Motkin had discovered it, proved that an enmity existed between Senov and the other man. Supreme in confidence, Motkin came directly to the point as he questioned Cliff in English.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“I’m an American,” returned Cliff calmly.
The reply was an echo of the past. Another man had given that answer to Motkin in Moscow.