“It seems that a well-known gambler in New York, called Captain Quint, is backing them; and somebody higher up is backing Quint––”
“Probably the Turkish Embassy at Washington,” interposed the Princess, coolly. “I’m sorry, Jim; pray go on.”
“The Turkish Embassy?” he repeated, surprised that she should guess.
“Yes; and the German Embassy is backing that. There you are, Jim. That is the sequence as far as your friend, Captain Quint. Now, who comes next in the scale?”
“This man—Brandes—and the little chalk-faced creature, Stull; and the other one, with the fox face—Doc Curfoot.”
“I see. And then?”
“Then, as I gathered, there are several gentlemen wearing Teutonic names—who are to go into partnership with them—one named Kestner, one called Theodore Weishelm, and an exceedingly oily Eurasian gentleman with whom I became acquainted on the Volhynia—one Karl Breslau––”
“Breslau!” exclaimed the Princess. “Now I understand.”
“Who is he, Princess?”