She might be weeks or months clearing herself, innocent though she be.
Mind you, she is as square as anything; she is in no way mixed up with
our affairs up there. But I'm giving you the tip. Sneak her out as
soon as you can, and don't leave any trail."
"She may prefer to face the music, O'Dowd. If I know her at all, she
will refuse to run away."
"Then ye'll have to kidnap her," said the Irishman earnestly. "There
will be men swarming here from both sides of the border by to-morrow
night or next day. I've had direct information. The matter is in the
hands of the people at Washington and they are in communication with
Ottawa this afternoon. Never mind how I found it out. It's the gospel
truth, and--it's going to be bad for all of us if we're here when they
come."
"Who is she, O'Dowd? Man to man, tell me the truth. I want to know
just where I stand."
O'Dowd hesitated, looked around the tap-room, and then leaned across
the table.
"She is the daughter of Andreas Mara-Dafanda, former minister of war
in the cabinet of Prince Bolaroz the Sixth. Her mother was first
cousin to the Prince. Both father and mother are dead. And for that
matter, so is Bolaroz the Sixth.
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