Slowly the lad approached with his heart in his mouth.  To himself he muttered: 

“I’ll draw a red one just as sure as I stand here.  I can feel it!”

For a moment he hesitated, and Duval’s keen eyes caught the sign of indecision.  He half rose to his feet.

“We want no chicken-hearts,” he said.  “However, draw or not, as you choose.”

Chester caught the cold menace in the tone, and he realized that should he fail to draw, knowing what he did of the plot, he would never leave the room alive.

He thrust his hand into the box, clutched an elusive ball and drew it forth.  He looked at it quickly and held it aloft.

The ball was red!

Immediately the men crowded about him and slapped him on the back.

“You are a lucky dog,” exclaimed Jean; “an extra gold piece you’ll get.”

Chester had been so sure that he would draw one of the red balls that he felt no surprise.  Hal, however, was greatly agitated, and he concealed his anxiety with an effort, as, being next in line, he also advanced to draw.

“If I can get the other red one,” he said to himself, “it may work out all right.”

The same thought had struck Chester, and he leaned forward anxiously.  Hal thrust his hand into the box, then drew it forth again; and the ball that he held up was black.

The lad heaved a sigh of disappointment as he returned to his place.

“Never mind,” said Chester, “it will come out all right.”

Next to the last man to draw was Jean Garnier.  He thrust his hand quickly into the box and pulled forth the second red ball.  He was so elated that he cried out with joy.  Then he ran to Chester and slapped him on the back.

“Perhaps,” said he, “we can work this together and share equally in the prize.”

Before Chester could reply, Duval rose once more to his feet and ordered that all leave the room except those who held the red balls.  Slowly the men filed out, Hal being among the last to go.  Outside the lad walked some distance from the house, then, when he felt certain that the others had disappeared, returned, and concealed himself in a dark alleyway across the street, where he waited patiently for Chester to emerge.

As soon as the others had left the room, Duval called Chester and Jean to him, and spoke in a low voice.

“This work must not be bungled,” he said sternly.  Then, to Jean, “and you are to see that it is not bungled.  If this Victor makes one false move, you know what to do?”

Jean nodded his head in the affirmative.

“But,” he added, “Victor will make no false move.”

“I feel sure of that,” replied Duval, “or I should not allow him to leave here alive.”

Then he addressed Chester.

“The President,” he said, “will make an address from the steps of the Palace to-morrow at noon.  I shall expect you to be in the crowd.  When the proper moment comes, you will know what to do.  Jean will be there to see you do it, and I myself shall be on hand to see that you both obey.  Am I understood?”