"We do not ask your price," said a voice which the secret agent recognized as that of Matsadi. "We merely desire to be certain that the paper is ready for delivery."
"You may rest assured upon that point," replied Karkowsky. "Drevenoff, show him the scapular."
There was a moment's pause, during which the secret agent could well imagine the young Pole drawing the desired object from his pocket.
"There!" said the triumphant voice of Drevenoff. "There it is. And see here where the edge has been opened—the paper."
Karkowsky laughed once more.
"Ah," said he, contentedly, "these little matters! What a time we have in hunting them out—what a chase they sometimes lead us. And how glad we feel when it is all over."
"There would have been no chase in this matter at least," said Matsadi, "if you had lived up to your word in the first place."
"Not my word, my dear sir," spoke Karkowsky. "That has always been good. But one cannot always depend upon the steadfastness of a boy."
"I am as steadfast as you," broke in the voice of Drevenoff. "But blood is thicker than water."