The Mission of Poubalov — page 71: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. 67 tered by means of a latch-key. If any one had suggested to him the spy’s arguments to the effect that as the agent of a friendly government he could not venture, if he would, to violate American law, Litizki would have laughed, and that would have been very significant of his ‘immeasurable contempt for the argument, for it was not in the memory of his associates that the tailor had ever ‘smiled. His nearest approach to it, in fact, was when he ‘manifested pleasure at the idea of being countenanced in an investigation of Poubalov’s doings in his own way. Re- “spect American law, indeed! Then would Poubalov be other than he was, and the leopard might be expected to change his spots. Litizki hated Poubalov with all the concentrated venom of his small nature, a nature that had known little of good in the world save in Ivan Strobel’s kindness, that had felt the blows of tyranny and the stabs of treachery at the hands of this same spy. A desire for vengeance haG smol- dered long in his heart, and he had never expected that any breeze of fortune would fan it into living flame; and now, suddenly, it had burst forth a raging fire, and the possibility of opportunity rose before his dull eyes as the one glad hope of his wretched life. Poubalov in America! Poubalov at his treacherous work against the one man who had inspired Litizki with confidence and stirred his affections! and he, Litizki, knew Poubalov’s secret, knew where he could lay hands upon him! Fate must have placed him there in order that Litizki’s vengeance might be the more complete. The tailor laid down his tools and bent his head upon his hands. Poubalov must be checkmated, Strobel res- cued; and if in accomplishing this end, the spy should be— Well, what then? Litizki put on a long coat with a high collar that he turned up about his ears, and a soft hat that he pulled down over his eyes. At the foot of the stairs that led to his shop he met Paul Palovna. ‘Hello, Litizki,’? exclaimed the young man, ‘‘where in Gom Goo KS G@ mn