“We understand, Mr. Grimm,” the president began, and he paused for an instant to regard the tall, clean-cut young man with a certain admiration, “we understand that there does not actually exist such a thing as a Latin compact against the English-speaking peoples?”

“On paper, no,” was the reply.

“You personally prevented the signing of the compact?”

“I personally caused the destruction of the compact after several signatures had been attached,” Mr. Grimm amended.  “Throughout I have acted under the direction of Mr. Campbell, of course.”

“You were in very grave personal danger?” the president went on.

“It was of no consequence,” said Mr. Grimm simply.

The president glanced at Mr. Campbell and the chief shrugged his shoulders.

“You are certain, Mr. Grimm,” and the president spoke with great deliberation, “you are certain that the representatives of the Latin countries have not met since and signed the compact?”

“I am not certain—­no,” replied Mr. Grimm promptly.  “I am certain, however, that the backbone of the alliance was broken—­its only excuse for existence destroyed—­when they permitted me to learn of the wireless percussion cap which would have placed the navies of the world at their mercy.  Believe me, gentlemen, if they had kept their secret it would have given them dominion of the earth.  They made one mistake,” he added in a most matter-of-fact tone.  “They should have killed me; it was their only chance.”

The president seemed a little startled at the suggestion.

“That would have been murder,” he remarked.

“True,” Mr. Grimm acquiesced, “but it seems an absurd thing that they should have permitted the life of one man to stand between them and the world power for which they had so long planned and schemed.  His Highness, Prince Benedetto d’Abruzzi believed as I do, and so expressed himself.”  He paused a moment; there was a hint of surprise in his manner.  “I expected to be killed, of course.  It seemed to me the only thing that could happen.”

“They must have known of the far-reaching consequences which would follow upon your escape, Mr. Grimm.  Why didn’t they kill you?”

Mr. Grimm made a little gesture with both hands and was silent.

“May they not yet attempt it?” the president insisted.

“It’s too late now,” Mr. Grimm explained.  “They had everything to gain by killing me there as I stood in the room where I had interrupted the signing of the compact, because that would have been before I had placed the facts in the hands of my government.  I was the only person outside of their circle who knew all of them.  Only the basest motive could inspire them to attempt my life now.”

There was a pause.  The secretary of state glanced from Mr. Grimm to Mr. Campbell with a question in his deep-set eyes.

“Do I understand that you placed a Miss Thorne and the prince under—­that is, you detained them?” he queried.  “If so, where are they now?”