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diff --git a/11240-0.txt b/11240-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..83076d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/11240-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6515 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11240 *** + +The Apartment Next Door + +by William Johnston + + +AUTHOR OF +THE HOUSE OF WHISPERS, LIMPY, ETC. + +ILUSTRATIONS BY +ARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN + + +1919 + + + + +TO THAT MARVELLOUS SCHEHERAZADE +CAROLYN WELLS HOUGHTON +THE AUTHOR, IN ENVIOUS ADMIRATION, +DEDICATES THIS VOLUME + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I. THE FACE OF HATE + CHAPTER II. THE ADDRESS ON THE CARD + CHAPTER III. “MR. FLECK” + CHAPTER IV. THE CLUE IN THE BOOK + CHAPTER V. ON THE TRAIL + CHAPTER VI. THE MISSING MESSAGE + CHAPTER VII. THE WOMAN ON THE ROOF + CHAPTER VIII. THE LISTENING EAR + CHAPTER IX. THE PURSUIT + CHAPTER X. CARTER’S DISCOVERY + CHAPTER XI. JANE’S ADVENTURE + CHAPTER XII. PUZZLES AND PLANS + CHAPTER XIII. THE SEALED PACKET + CHAPTER XIV. THE MOUNTAIN’S SECRET + CHAPTER XV. THE HOUSE IN THE WOODS + CHAPTER XVI. THE ATTACK ON THE HOUSE + CHAPTER XVII. SOMETHING UNEXPECTED + CHAPTER XVIII. WHAT THE PACKET CONTAINED + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + She could not bring herself to tell him, the man she loved, the thing she knew he was. + More than likely, she alone in all the world—knew who the murderer was. + Had he been standing there listening? How much had he heard? + “Thank God,” he cried. “Jane, dear, tell me you are not hurt!” + + + + +THE APARTMENT NEXT DOOR + + + + +CHAPTER I +THE FACE OF HATE + + +It was three o’clock in the morning. Along a deserted pavement of +Riverside Drive strode briskly a young man whose square-set shoulders +and erect poise suggested a military training. His coat, thrown +carelessly open to the cold night wind, displayed an expanse of white +indicative of evening dress. As he walked his heels clicked sharply on +the concrete with the forceful firm tread of the type which does things +quickly and decisively. The intense stillness of the early morning +hours carried the sound in little staccato beats that could be heard +blocks away. A few yards behind him, moving furtively and noiselessly, +almost as if he had been shod with rubber, crept another figure, that +of a stocky, broad-shouldered man, who despite his bulk and weight +moved silently and swiftly through the night, a soft brown hat drawn +low over his eyes as if he desired to avoid recognition. + +All at once the man ahead paused suddenly and stood looking out over +the river. Between the Drive and the distance-dimmed lights of the +Jersey shore there rose like great silhouettes the grim figures of +several huge steel-clad battleships, their fighting-tops lost in the +shadows of the opposite hills. Beside them, obscure, with no lights +visible, lay the great transports that in a few hours, or in a few +days—who knew—they would be convoying with their precious cargo of +fighting men across the war-perilled Atlantic. + +It was on the forward deck of one of these great battleships that the +eyes of the man ahead were riveted. His shadower, evidently much +concerned in his actions, crept slowly and stealthily forward, +approaching nearer and still nearer without being observed. + +A dim light became visible on the warship’s deck and then vanished. +Still the man stood there watching, a puzzled, anxious look coming into +his face. Quickly the light reappeared—two flashes, a pause, two +flashes, a pause, and then a single flash. It was such a light as might +have been made by a pocket torch, a feeble ray barely strong enough to +carry to the adjacent shore, a light that if it had been flashed from +some sheltered nook by the boat davits might not even have attracted +the attention of the officer on the bridge nor of the ship’s watchmen. +Manifestly it was a signal intended for the eyes of some one on shore. + +A muttered imprecation escaped the lips of the watcher on the Drive. He +stood there, straining his eyes toward the ship as if expecting a +following signal, then he turned and gazed aloft at the windows of the +apartment houses lining the driveway to see if some answering signal +flashed back. + +And in the shadow of the buildings, hardly ten feet away but half +sheltered by a doorway, stood his sinister pursuer, motionless but +alert. + +For perhaps a quarter of an hour they held their positions. At last the +man who was being followed shrugged his shoulders impatiently and set +off again down the Drive, from time to time turning his head to watch +the spot from which the signal had been flashed. Behind him, as +doggedly as ever and now a little closer, crept the man with the hat +over his eyes. + +Regardless of the lateness of the hour, at a third-floor window of one +of the great apartment houses lining the Drive sat a young girl in her +nightrobe, with her two great black braids flung forward over her +shoulders, about which she had placed for warmth’s sake a quilted +negligee. Jane Strong was far too excited to sleep. An hour before she +had come in from a wonderful party. The music still was playing mad +tunes in her ears. The excitement, the coffee, the spirited tilts at +arms with her many dancing partners had set her brain on fire. Sleep +seemed impossible as yet. + +Looking out at the river—a favorite occupation of hers—the sight of the +warships looming up through the darkness reminded her once more that +nearly all of the men with whom she had been dancing had been in +uniform, bringing into prominence in the jumble of ideas in her +over-stimulated brain, almost as a new discovery, the fact that her +country was really engaged in war, that the men, the very men whom she +knew best, were most of them fighting, or soon going to fight in a +foreign land. Suddenly she found herself vaguely wishing that there was +something she might do, something for the war, something to help. Would +it not be splendid, she thought, to go to France as a Red Cross nurse, +to be over there in the middle of things, where something exciting was +forever going on. Life—the only life she knew about, existence as the +petted daughter of well-to-do parents in a big city—had, ever since the +war had begun, seemed strangely flat and uninteresting. Parties, to be +sure, were fun but hardly any one was giving parties this year. The +Stantons had entertained only because their lieutenant son was going +abroad soon, and they wished him to have a pleasant memory to carry +with him. Most of the interesting men she knew already were gone, and +now Jack Stanton was going. How she wished she could find some way of +getting into the war herself. + +The sound of approaching footsteps caught her ear. Wondering who was +abroad at that hour of the night she pushed up the window softly and +looked out. In the distance she saw a man approaching, striding briskly +toward her. As she stood idly watching him and wondering about him, +suddenly she caught her breath. She had sighted the other figure +behind, the man creeping stealthily after him. Nearer and nearer they +came. In tense expectation she waited, sensing some unusual +development. They had reached her block now. Almost directly under her +window the man in advance paused to light a cigarette. His shadow +paused, too, but some incautious movement on his part must have +betrayed him. + +Match in hand, the man in advance stood stock-still, his whole figure +taut, poised, alert, in an attitude of listening. All at once he +wheeled about, discovering the man close behind him. He sprang at once +for his pursuer. The latter took to his heels, dashing around the +corner, the man whom he had been following now hot at his heels. + +All trembling with nervous excitement Jane leaned out the window to +listen and watch. She could hear the running feet of both men just +around the corner. What was happening? The running feet came to an +abrupt stop. There was a half-smothered cry, a sharp thud, like a body +striking the pavement, and then came silence. Puzzled, vaguely alarmed, +a hundred questions came pouring into her brain and lingered there +disturbingly. Why had one of these men been shadowing the other? Why +had the pursuer suddenly become the pursued? Why had the running +footsteps come to such an abrupt stop? What was the noise she had +heard? What was happening around the corner? Her fears rapidly growing, +she was on the point of arousing her family. But what excuse should she +give? What could she tell them? After all she had merely seen two men +run up the side street. More than likely they would only laugh at her, +and she did not like being laughed at. Besides, Dad was always cross +when suddenly awakened. Undecided what to do she stood at the window, +peering into the night. + +Five minutes, ten minutes she stood there in tremulous perplexity. A +sense of impending tragedy seemed to have laid hold of her. A black +horror seized her and held her at the window. Something terrible, +something tragic, she was sure must have happened. Mustering up her +strength and trying to calm her fears she was about to put down the +window when she heard footsteps once more approaching. Straining her +ears to listen she discovered the sound was that of the steps of a +man—one man—approaching from around the corner. As she watched he +turned into the Drive and came on toward her. She shrank back a little, +fearful of being seen even though her room was in darkness. It was the +first man. She recognized him at once by his top-hat and his evening +clothes. He was walking even more briskly than before, almost running. +There was no sign anywhere of the shorter thick-set man who had been +following him. Something in the appearance of the figure in the street +below struck her all at once as vaguely familiar. She wondered if it +could be any one she knew. + +Presently he came directly opposite the light on the other side of the +Drive so that it shone for an instant full on his face. Jane looked and +shuddered. Never in all her life had she seen any man’s countenance so +convulsed, not with pain, but with a soul-terrifying expression of +hate, of virulent, murderous hate. + +Distorted though the man’s face was with such bitter frightfulness, she +recognized him, not as any one she knew, but merely as one of the +tenants in the same apartment building. + +“It’s one of the people next door,” she said to herself and in +verification of her identification, as he approached the building, the +young man cast a swift glance over his shoulder, and then, as if +satisfied that he was unobserved, dashed hurriedly in at the entrance. + +Jane, more than ever wrought up with fear and dread of she knew not +what, sprang hastily into bed and drew the covers about her shoulders. +As yet she did not lie down but shiveringly waited. Presently she heard +the elevator stop. She heard the key opening the door of the next +apartment. In a few minutes she heard the man moving about his bedroom, +separated from her own room by a mere six inches of plaster and paper, +or whatever it is that apartment-house walls are made of. + +What could have happened? She was certain that something terrible had +occurred in which the young man next door had played a tragic, perhaps +even a criminal part. She tried in vain to conjecture what circumstance +could have been responsible for the look of hatred she had seen on his +face. She wondered what had been the fate of the man who had been +following him. Had they quarrelled and fought? What could have been the +subject of their quarrel? + +She tried to summarize what she knew about the people next door, and +was amazed to discover how little she had to draw upon. As in most New +York apartment houses so in Jane’s home all the tenants were utter +strangers to each other, one family not even knowing the names of any +of the others. Occasionally, to be sure, one rather resentfully rode up +or down in the elevator with some of the other tenants but always +without noticing or speaking to them. Jane’s family had been living in +the building for five years, and of the twenty other families they knew +the names of only two, having learned them by accident rather than +intention. About the people next door Jane now discovered that she +really knew nothing at all. There was a man with a gray beard who never +took off his hat in the elevator, and there was the handsome young chap +whom she had just seen entering. But what their names were, or their +business, or how long they had lived there, or whether they were father +and son, what servants they kept, or whether either or both of them was +married—these were questions she could have answered as readily as if +they had been living in Dallas, Texas, or Seattle, Washington, as in +the next apartment. Quickly she found that she really knew nothing at +all about them except—she could not recall that any one had told her or +how she had got the impression—she was almost certain they were some +sort of foreigners. + +Just when it was that her troubled thoughts were succeeded by even more +troubled dreams she was not aware, but it was noon the next day when +she was awakened by the maid bringing in her breakfast tray. + +“Terrible, Miss Jane, wasn’t it,” said the servant, “about that suicide +last night, almost under our noses, you might say.” + +“Suicide!” cried the girl, at once wide-awake and interested “What +suicide?” + +“A man was found dead in the side street right by our building with a +revolver in his hand.” + +“What sort of a looking man was he?” + +“I didn’t see him,” said the maid, almost regretfully. “He was taken +away before I was up. Cook tells me it was the milkman found him and +notified the police.” + +“Who was he?” + +“Nobody round here knows a thing about him. He shot himself through the +heart and us sleeping here an’ not knowing anything at all about it.” + +“But didn’t any one know who he was?” + +“Never a soul. The superintendents from all the buildings round took a +look at the body, but none of them knew him. It wasn’t anybody that +lived around here. There’s a piece in the afternoon papers about it.” + +“Get me a paper at once,” directed the girl. + +Eagerly she read the paragraph the maid pointed out. It really told +very little. The body of a plainly dressed man had been found on the +sidewalk. There was a revolver in his hand with one cartridge +discharged, and the bullet had penetrated his heart. He had been a +short stalky man and had worn a brown soft hat. There was nothing about +his clothing to identify him, even the marks where his suit had been +purchased having been removed. He had not been identified. The police +and the coroner were satisfied that it was a case of suicide. + +Suicide! + +Jane, reading and rereading the paragraph, recalled the unusual +occurrence she had witnessed the night before. Vividly there stood out +before her the strange panorama she had seen, the tall young man in +evening clothes, and the short stalky man with the soft hat who had +followed him. The two of them had run around the corner. Only one of +them had come back. Unforgettably there was imprinted in her memory the +satanic expression on the young man’s face as he had hastened into the +house. No wonder he had cast such an anxious glance behind him as he +entered. + +Suicide! + +Jane was certain that it was no suicide. She remembered the curious +thud she had heard from around the corner, like a body falling to the +pavement. She recalled that it must have been at least ten minutes +before the other man reappeared, time enough to have placed the +revolver in the dead man’s hand, time enough even to have removed all +possible means of identification from the man’s clothing. + + +Illustration: More than likely, she alone in all the world—knew who the +murderer was. + + +It was not suicide, Jane felt certain. It was murder! Slowly but +oppressingly, overwhelmingly, it dawned on her not only that in all +probability a murder had been committed, but also that she—more than +likely, she alone in all the world—knew who the murderer was, who it +must have been—the young man next door. + + + + +CHAPTER II +THE ADDRESS ON THE CARD + + +Impatiently Jane looked at her wrist watch. It lacked an hour of the +time when she was to meet her mother at the Ritz for tea. Her nerves +still all ajangle from excitement and worry over the morning’s tragedy, +and her own accidental secret knowledge of certain aspects of the case +had made it wholly impossible for her to do anything that day with even +simulated interest. + +She had been debating with herself whether or not to confide to her +mother the story of the tragic tableau of which she had been an +accidental witness, when Mrs. Strong had dashed into her bedroom to +give her a hurried peck on the cheek and to say that she was off to +luncheon and the matinée with Mrs. Starrett. + +“You’re not looking well to-day, dear,” her mother had said. “Stay in +bed and rest and join us for tea if you like.” + +Before she had opportunity to tell what she had seen, her mother was +gone, but Jane had found it impossible to obey her well-meant +injunction. She rose and dressed, her mind busy all the while with the +problem of what her duty was. As she donned her clothing she paused +from time to time to listen for sounds from the next apartment. + +What was her neighbor doing now? Had he read of the discovery of the +man’s body in the street? Perhaps he had fled already? Not a sound was +to be heard there. He did not look in the least like what Jane imagined +a murderer would, yet certainly the circumstances pointed all too +plainly to his guilt. She had seen two men dash around the corner, one +in pursuit of the other. One of them had come back alone. Not long +afterward a body—the body of the other man—had been found with a bullet +in his heart. It must have been a murder. + +What ought she to do about it? Was it her duty to tell her mother and +Dad about what she had seen? Mother, she knew, would be horrified and +would caution her to say nothing to any one, but Dad was different. He +had strict ideas about right and justice. He would insist on hearing +every word she had to tell. More than likely he would decide that it +was her duty to give the information to the authorities. Her face +blanched at the thought. She could not do that. She pictured to herself +the notoriety that would necessarily ensue. She saw herself being +hounded by reporters, she imagined her picture in the papers, she heard +herself branded as “the witness in that murder case,” she depicted +herself being questioned by detectives and badgered by lawyers. + +No, she decided, it would be best for her never to tell a soul, not +even her parents. In persistent silence lay her safest course. After +all she had not witnessed the commission of the crime. She was not even +sure that the man found dead had been one of the two she had watched +from her window. If she saw the body she would not be able to identify +it. She was not even certain in her own mind that the man next door had +done the shooting, however suspicious his actions may have appeared to +her. Besides, he did not look in the least like a murderer. He was too +well-dressed. + +In an effort to put the whole thing out of her mind she tried to read, +but was unable to keep her thoughts from wandering. She sat down at the +piano, but music failed to interest or soothe her. She mussed over some +unanswered notes in her desk but could not summon up enough +concentration of mind to answer them. Restless and fidgety, unable to +keep her thoughts from the unusual occurrences that had disturbed her +ordinarily too peaceful life, she decided to take a walk until it was +time to keep her appointment. Something—force of habit probably—led her +to the shopping district. With still half an hour to kill, she went +into a little specialty shop to examine some knitting bags displayed in +the window. + +“Why don’t you knit as all the other girls are doing?” was her father’s +constant suggestion every time she asserted her desire to be doing +something in the war. + +“There’s no thrill in knitting,” she would answer. “Fix it, Dad, so +that I can go to France as a Red Cross nurse or as an ambulance driver, +won’t you? I want some excitement.” + +Always he had refused to consent to her going, insisting that France in +wartime was no place for an untrained girl. + +“If I can’t go myself, I certainly am not going to send any knitting,” +she would spiritedly answer, but several times recently the sight of +such charming looking knitting bags had tempted her into almost +breaking her resolution. + +Inside the shop she found nothing that appealed to her, and contented +herself with buying some toilet articles. As she made her purchases she +noticed, almost subconsciously, a man standing near, talking with one +of the shopgirls—a middle-aged man with a dark mustache. + +“The address, please,” said the girl, who had been waiting on her. + +“Miss Strong,” she answered, giving the number of the apartment house +on Riverside Drive. + +She recalled afterward that as she mentioned the number the man +standing there had turned and looked sharply at her, but she thought +nothing of it. Her father’s name was well known and he had many +acquaintances in the city. More than likely, she supposed, this man was +some friend of her father who had recognized the name. + +She lingered a few moments at some of the other counters, aimlessly +inspecting their offerings, and at last, with ten minutes left to reach +the Ritz, emerged from the store. She was amazed to see the man who had +been inside now standing near the entrance, and something within warned +her that he had been waiting to speak to her. As she attempted to pass +him quickly, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path, but raising +his hat deferentially. + +“I beg your pardon, Miss Strong,” he said, “may I have a word with +you?” + +Compelled to halt, she looked at him both appraisingly and resentfully. +There was nothing offensive nor flirtatious in his manner, and he +seemed far too respectably dressed to be a beggar. He was almost old +enough to be her father, and besides there was about him an indefinable +air of authority that commanded her attention. She decided that, +unusual as his request appeared, she would hear what he had to say. + +“What is it?” she asked, trying to assume an air of hauteur but without +being able wholly to mask her curiosity. + +“You are an American, aren’t you?” he asked abruptly. + +“Of course.” + +“A good American?” + +“I hope so.” She decided now that he must be one of the members of some +Red Cross fund “drive,” or perhaps an overenthusiastic salesman for +government bonds. “But I don’t quite understand what it is that you +wish.” + +“I can’t explain,” said her questioner, “but if you really are a good +American and you’d like to do your country a great service—an important +service—go at once to the address on this card.” + +She took the slip of white pasteboard handed her. On it was written in +pencil “Room 708.” The building was a skyscraper down-town. + +“What is it?” she asked half indignantly, “a new scheme to sell bonds?” + +“No, no, Miss Strong,” he cried, “it is nothing like that. It is a +great opportunity to do an important service for America.” + +“How did you know my name?” + +“I heard you give it to the clerk just now.” + +“And why,” she inquired with what she intended to be withering sarcasm, +“have I been selected so suddenly for this important work?” + +“I heard the address you gave, that’s why,” he answered. “That’s what +makes it so important that you should go to that number at once. Ask +for Mr. Fleck.” + +“I can’t go,” she temporized. “I am on my way now to meet my mother at +the Ritz.” + +“Go to-morrow, then,” he insisted. “I’ll see Mr. Fleck meanwhile and +tell him about you.” + +Puzzled at the man’s unusual and wholly preposterous request, yet in +spite of herself impressed by his evident sincerity, Jane turned the +card nervously in her hand and discovered some small characters on the +back; “K-15” they read. + +“What do those figures mean?” she asked. + +“I can’t tell you that. Mr. Fleck will explain everything. Promise me +you will go to see him.” + +“Who are you?” + +“I can’t tell you that, yet.” + +“Who, then, is Mr. Fleck?” + +“He will explain that to you.” + +“What has my address to do with it? I can’t understand yet why you make +this preposterous request of me.” + +“I tell you I can’t explain it to you, not yet,” the man replied, “but +it’s because you live where you do you must go to see Mr. Fleck. It’s +about a matter of the highest importance to your government. It is more +important than life and death.” + +His last words startled her. They brought to her mind afresh the +mysterious occurrence she had witnessed the night before and the +equally mysterious death near her home. Had this man’s odd request any +connection, she wondered, with what had happened there? The lure of the +unknown, the opportunity for adventure, called to her, though prudence +bade her be cautious. + +“I’ll ask my mother,” she temporized. + +“Don’t,” cried the man. “You must keep your visit to Mr. Fleck a secret +from everybody. You mustn’t breathe a word about it even to your father +and mother. Take my word for it, Miss Strong, that what I am asking you +to do is right. I’ve two daughters of my own. The thing I’m urging you +to do I’d be proud and honored to have either of them do if they could. +There is no one else in the world but you that can do this particular +thing. A word to a single living soul and you’ll end your usefulness. +You must not even tell any one you have talked with me. See Mr. Fleck. +He’ll explain everything to you. Promise me you’ll see him.” + +“I promise,” Jane found herself saying, even against her better +judgment, won over by the man’s insistence. + +“Good. I knew you would,” said her mysterious questioner, turning on +his heel and vanishing speedily as if afraid to give her an opportunity +of reconsidering. + +Puzzled beyond measure not only at the man’s strange conduct but even +more at her own compliance with his request, Jane made her way slowly +and thoughtfully to the Ritz, where she found her mother and Mrs. +Starrett had already arrived. + +As they sipped their tea the two elder women chatted complacently about +the matinée, about their acquaintances, about other women in the +tea-room and the gowns they had on, about bridge hands—the usual small +talk of afternoon tea. + +To Jane, oppressed with her two secrets, all at once their conversation +seemed the dreariest piffle. Great things were happening everywhere in +the world, nations at war, men fighting and dying in the trenches of +horror for the sake of an ideal, kings were being overthrown, dynasties +tottering, boundaries of nations vanishing. Women, she realized, too, +more than ever in history, were taking an active and important part in +world affairs. In the lands of battle they were nursing the wounded, +driving ambulances, helping to rehabilitate wrecked villages. In the +lands where peace still reigned they were voting, speech-making, +holding jobs, running offices, many of them were uniting to aid in +movements for civic improvement, for better children, for the +improvement of the whole human race. + +And here they were—here _she_ was, idling uselessly at the Ritz as she +had done yesterday, last week, last month—forever, it seemed to her. +The vague protest that for some time had been growing within her +against the senselessness and futility of her manner of existence +crystallized itself now into a determination no longer to submit to it. +Courageously she was resolving that she would take the first +opportunity to escape from this boresome routine of pleasure-seeking. +She was wondering if the request that had been so unexpectedly made of +her would prove to be her way out from her prison of desuetude. + +The talk of the two women with her drifted aimlessly on. Seldom was she +included in it, save when her mother, nodding to some one she knew, +would turn to say: + +“Daughter, there is Mrs. Jones-Lloyd.” + +What did she care about Mrs. Jones-Lloyd? What did she care about any +of the people about them, aimless, pleasure-hunting drifters like +themselves. Left to her own devices for mental activity her thoughts +kept recurring to the surprising adventure she had had a few minutes +before. Thoughtfully she pondered over the mysterious message that had +been given to her. The man had said that it was a wonderful opportunity +for her to do her country a great service. She wondered why he had been +so secretive about it. She decided that she would investigate further +and made up her mind to carry out his instructions. What harm could +befall her in visiting an office building in the business district? At +least it would be something to do, something new, something different, +something surely exciting and, perhaps, something useful. + +It would be better, she decided, for the present at least, to keep her +intentions entirely to herself. Any hint of her plans to her mother +would surely result in permission being refused. The man certainly had +seemed sincere, honest, and perfectly respectable, even if he was not +of the sort one would ask to dinner. She made up her mind to go +down-town to the address given the very first thing to-morrow morning. +If anything should happen to her, she felt that she could always reach +her father. His office was in the next block. + +The problem of making the mysterious journey without her mother’s +knowledge bothered her not at all. As in the case of most +apartment-house families, she and her mother really saw very little of +each other, especially since she had become a “young lady.” Mrs. Strong +went constantly to lectures, to luncheons, to bridge parties, to +matinées with her own particular friends. Jane’s engagements were with +another set entirely, school friends most of them, whose parents and +hers hardly knew each other. Both she and her mother habitually +breakfasted in bed, generally at different hours, and seldom lunched +together. At dinner, when Mr. Strong was present, there were no +intimacies between mother and daughter. The only times they really saw +each other for protracted periods were when they happened to go +shopping, or go to the dressmaker’s together, and then the subject +always uppermost in the minds of both of them was the all-important and +absorbing topic of clothes. Occasionally, Jane poured at one of her +mother’s more formal functions, but for the most part the time of each +was taken up in a mad, senseless hunt for amusement. + +Suddenly every thought was driven from Jane’s head. Her face went +white, and with difficulty she managed to suppress an alarmed cry. + +“What is it, daughter?” asked her mother, noting her perturbation. “Are +you feeling ill?” + +“A touch of neuralgia,” she managed to answer. + +“Too many late hours,” warned Mrs. Starrett reprovingly. + +“I’m afraid so,” said Mrs. Strong. “As soon as I’ve paid my check we’ll +go.” + +“I’m perfectly all right now,” said Jane, controlling herself with +effort, though her face was still white. + +The danger that she had feared had passed for the present at least. +Glancing toward the entrance a moment before she had been terrified to +see entering the black-mustached man who had accosted her a few moments +before. Her one thought now had been that he had followed her here, and +in a panic she was wondering how she should make explanations if he +came up to their table and spoke. To her great relief he gave no +intimation of having seen her, but settled himself into a chair near +the door where he was half hidden from her by a great palm. Furtively +she watched him, trying to divine his intention in having followed her +there. Respectable enough though he was in appearance and garb, he did +not seem in the least like the sort of man likely to be found at +tea-time in an exclusive hotel. As she studied him she soon saw that +his attention seemed to be riveted on some one sitting at the other +side of the room. Wonderingly she let her eyes follow his, and once +more it was with difficulty that she suppressed an excited gasp. + +There, across the room, calmly sipping some coffee, was the handsome +young man from the next apartment—the man whom she had felt sure, or at +least almost sure, was a murderer, about whom she had been wondering +all day long, picturing him as a hunted criminal fleeing from the law. +Chatting interestedly with him was another man, a young man in the +uniform of a lieutenant in the navy. + +What did it all mean? Why was the black-mustached man watching them so +intently? Her eyes turned back to him. He was still sitting there, +leaning forward a little, his brows in a pucker of concentration, his +eyes still fixed on the pair opposite. It looked almost as if he was +trying to read their lips and tell what they were talking about. + +Jane thrilled with excitement. The black-mustached man, she decided, +must be a detective. She recalled that he had said to her it was +because she lived at the address she did that she was available for the +mission for which he wanted her. Did he, she wondered, know about the +mysterious death in the street outside their apartment house? Was that +the reason he was spying on her neighbor? But what could be his motive +in seeking to involve her in the matter? + +Unable to find satisfactory answers to her questions she gave herself +up interestedly to studying the faces of the two young men across the +room. Neither of them, she decided, could be much more than thirty. The +face that only a few hours before she had seen utterly convulsed with +bitter hate, now placid and smiling, was really an attractive one, not +in the least like a murderer’s. Frank, alert blue eyes looked out from +under an intellectual forehead. A small military mustache lent emphasis +to a clean-shaven, forceful jaw. His flaxen hair was neatly trimmed. +His linen and clothing were immaculate, and the hand that curved around +his cup had long, tapering, well-manicured fingers. The cut of his +clothing, his manners, everything about him seemed American, yet there +was an indefinable something in his appearance that suggested foreign +birth or parentage, probably either Swedish or German. The man with him +was smaller and slighter. Despite the air of importance his uniform +gave him, it was palpable that he was the less forceful of the two, his +handsome face, it seemed to Jane, betraying weakness of character and a +fondness for the good things of life. + +“Come, daughter,” said Mrs. Strong, rising, “we must be going.” + +So intent was Jane on her study of the two men that her mother had to +speak twice to her. + +“Yes, mother,” she answered obediently, rising hastily as the hint of +annoyance in her mother’s repeated remark brought her to a realization +of having been addressed. + +Letting her mother and Mrs. Starrett precede her in the doorway she +paused to look back at the scene that had interested her so strongly. +What _could_ it mean? What was going on? How was she involved in it? + +Her glance moved quickly from the watcher to the watched. The blond +young man caught her eye. Amazedly, it seemed to her, he stopped right +in the middle of what he was saying and sat there, his gaze fixed full +on her. She let her eyes fall, abashed, and turned to hasten after her +mother, but not so quickly did she turn but that she observed he had +hastily seized his cup and appeared to be drinking to her, not so much +impudently as admiringly. + + + + +CHAPTER III +“MR. FLECK” + + +Twice after the elevator had deposited her on the floor Jane had +approached the door of Room 708, and twice she had walked timorously +past it to the end of the hall, trying to muster up courage to enter. A +visit to a man’s office in the business district was a novelty for her. +On the few previous excursions of the sort she had made she always had +been accompanied by one of her parents. She found herself wishing now +that she had taken her father into her confidence and had asked him to +go with her. Making shopping her excuse she had come down-town with Mr. +Strong but had gotten off at Astor Place, and waited over for another +train. + +In her hand she held the card given to her by the black-mustached man +the afternoon before. As she studied it now her curiosity came to the +rescue of her fast-oozing courage. She must find out what it all meant, +whatever the risk or peril that might confront her. Boldly she returned +to Room 708 and opened the door. An office boy seated at a desk looked +up inquiringly. + +“Is Mr. Fleck in?” she inquired timidly. + +“Who wishes to see him?” + +“Just say there’s a lady wishes to speak to him,” she faltered, +hesitating to give her name. + +“Are you Miss Strong?” asked the boy abruptly, “because if you are, +he’s expecting you.” + +She nodded, and the boy, jumping up, escorted her into an inner room. +As she entered nervously an alert-looking man, with graying hair and +mustache, rose courteously to greet her. In the quick glance she gave +at her surroundings she was conscious only of the great mahogany desk +at which he sat and behind it some filing cabinets and a huge safe, the +outer doors of which stood open. + +“Sit down, won’t you, Miss Strong,” he said, placing a chair for her. + +His manner and his cultured tone, everything about him, reassured her +at once. They conveyed to her that he was what she would have termed “a +gentleman,” and with a little sigh of relief she seated herself. + +“I’m afraid,” said Mr. Fleck, smiling, “that Carter’s method of +approaching you must have alarmed you.” + +“Carter—Oh, the black-mustached man.” + +“Yes, that describes him. You see, he did not wish to act definitely +without consulting his chief, yet the unexpected opportunity seemed far +too vital not to be utilized. He did not explain, did he, what it was +we wanted of you?” + +“Indeed he didn’t,” said Jane, now wholly herself. “He was most +mysterious about it.” + +Mr. Fleck smiled amusedly. + +“Carter has been an agent so long that being mysterious is second +nature to him.” + +“An agent—I don’t understand.” + +“A Department agent,” explained Mr. Fleck, adding, “engaged in secret +service work for the government.” + +“Oh!” + +Jane’s exclamation was not so much of surprise as of delighted +realization, and the satisfaction expressed in her face was by no means +lost on Mr. Fleck. + +“Would you object,” he asked, moving his chair a little closer to hers, +“if, before I explain why you are here, I ask you a few questions—very +personal questions?” + +“Certainly not,” said Jane. + +“You are American-born, of course?” + +“Oh, yes.” + +“And your parents?” + +“American for ten or twelve generations.” + +“How long have you lived in that apartment house on Riverside Drive?” + +“For about five years.” + +“Do you know any of the other tenants in the house?” + +“No—that is, none personally.” + +“Is your time fully occupied?” + +“No, indeed it isn’t, I’ve nothing to do at all, nothing except to try +to amuse myself.” + +“Good,” said Mr. Fleck. “Now would you be willing to help in some +secret work for the United States Government, some work of the very +highest importance?” + +“Would I?” cried Jane, her eyes shining. “Gladly! Just try me.” + +“Don’t answer too quickly,” warned Mr. Fleck. “Remember, it will be +real work, serious work, not always pleasant, sometimes possibly a +little perilous. Remember, too, it must be done with absolute secrecy. +You must not let even your parents know that you are working with us. +You must pledge yourself to breathe no word of what you are doing or +are asked to do to a living soul. Everything that we may tell you is to +be buried forever from everybody. No one is to be trusted. The minute +one other person knows your secret it will no longer be a secret. Can +we depend upon you?” + +“You may absolutely depend on me,” said Jane slowly and soberly. “I +give you my word. I have been eager for ever so long to do something to +help, to really help. My father is doing all he can to aid the +government. He’s on the Shipping Board.” + +Mr. Fleck nodded. Evidently he was aware of it already. + +“My brother, my only brother,” Jane continued, with a little catch in +her throat, “is Over There—somewhere Over There—fighting for his +government. If there is anything I can do to help the country he is +fighting for, the country he may die for, I pledge you I will do it +gladly with my heart, my soul, my body—everything.” + +“Thank you,” said Mr. Fleck softly, taking her hand. “I felt sure you +were that sort of a girl. Now listen.” He moved his chair still closer +to hers, and his voice became almost a whisper. “In the apartment next +to you there live two men,—Otto Hoff and his nephew, Fred. They have an +old German servant, but we can leave her out of it for the present. The +old man is a lace importer. Apparently they are both above suspicion, +yet—” + +He stopped abruptly. + +“You think they are spies—spies for Germany,” questioned Jane +excitedly. “They’re Germans, of course?” + +“Otto Hoff is German-born, but he has been here for twenty years. +Several years ago he took out papers and became an American citizen.” + +“And the young man?” + +Jane’s tone was vibrant with interest. It must be the man she had seen +from her window whom they suspected most. + +“He professes to be American-born.” + +“Oh,” said the girl, rather disappointedly. + +“But,” continued Mr. Fleck, “there’s something queer about it all. He +arrived in this country only three days before we went into the war. He +had a certificate, properly endorsed, giving his birthplace as +Cincinnati. He arrived on a Scandinavian ship. He speaks German as well +and as fluently as he speaks English, both without accent.” + +“Perhaps he was educated abroad,” suggested Jane, rather amazed at +finding herself seeking to defend him. + +“He must have been,” said Fleck, “yet I find it hard to believe that +Germany at this time is letting any young German-American come home if +he’s soldier material—and young Hoff’s appearance certainly suggests +military training.” + +“It surely does.” + +“Unless,” continued Fleck, “there was some special object in sending +him here.” + +“You think,” said Jane slowly, “they sent him here—to this country—as a +spy.” + +“In our business we dare not think. We cannot merely conjecture. We +must prove,” said Mr. Fleck. “Maybe the Hoffs are O.K. I do not know. +Nobody knows yet. Let me tell you some of the circumstances. This much +we do know. Von Bernstorff is gone. Von Papen is gone. Scores of active +German sympathizers and propagandists have been rounded up and interned +or imprisoned, yet, in spite of all we have done, their work goes on. A +vast secret organization, well supplied with funds, is constantly at +work in this country, trying to cripple our armies, trying to destroy +our munition plants, trying to corrupt our citizens, trying to disrupt +our Congress. Every move the United States makes is watched. As you +probably know, every day now large numbers of American troops are +embarking in transports in the Hudson.” + +“Yes,” said Jane, “you can see them from our windows.” + +“Now then,” said Mr. Fleck, lowering his voice impressively, “here is +the fact. Some one somewhere on Riverside Drive is keeping close and +constant tab on the warships and transports there in the river. We have +managed recently to intercept and decipher some code messages. These +messages told not only when the transports sailed but how many troops +were on each and how strong their convoy was. Where these messages +originate we have not yet learned. We are practically certain that some +one in our own navy, some black-hearted traitor wearing an officer’s +uniform—perhaps several of them—is in communication with some one on +shore, betraying our government’s most vital secrets.” + +“I can’t believe it,” cried Jane, “our own American officers traitors!” + +“Undoubtedly some of them are,” said Mr. Fleck regretfully. “The German +efficiency, for years looking forward to this war, carefully built up a +far-reaching spy system. Years ago, long before the war was thought +of—or at least before we in this country thought of it—many secret +agents of Wilhelmstrasse were deliberately planted here. Many of them +have been residents here for years, masking their real occupation by +engaging in business, utilizing their time as they waited for the war +to come by gathering for Germany all of our trade and commercial +secrets. Some of these spies have even become naturalized, and they and +their sons pass for good American citizens. In some cases they have +even Americanized their names. Insidiously and persistently they have +worked their way into places, sometimes into high places in our +chemical plants, our steel factories, yes, even into high places in our +army and navy and into governmental positions where they can gather +information first-hand. In no other country has it been so easy for +them, because of this one fact: so large a proportion of Uncle Sam’s +population is of German birth or parentage. Why here in New York City +alone there are more than three-quarters of a million persons, either +German-born themselves or born of German parents. Many of them, the +vast majority of them, probably, are loyal to America, but think how +the plenitude of German names makes it easy for spies to get into our +army and navy. Besides that, they employ evil men of other +nationalities as spies, the criminal riffraff,—Danes, Swedes, +Spaniards, Italians, Swiss and even South Americans,—all of whom are +free to go and come as they choose in this country.” + +“I never realized before,” said Jane, “how many Germans there were all +about us.” + +“In an effort to locate this particular band of naval spies,” continued +Mr. Fleck, “we have combed the apartment houses and residences along +the Drive. Three places in particular are under suspicion. The +apartment of the Hoffs is one of these places. They moved in there +thirty days after this country went to war. Ordinarily, where the +occupants of an apartment are under suspicion, we take the +superintendent of the building partly into our confidence and plant +operatives in the house, or else we hire an apartment in the same +building. In this case neither course is practicable. The +superintendent of your building is a German-American and we dare not +trust him, and there is no vacant apartment that we can rent. We have +been watching the Hoffs from the outside as best we could. Carter, who +has had charge of the shadowing, accidentally happened to overhear you +give your address. He had procured a list of the tenants and remembered +the location of your apartment. It struck him at once that you would be +a valuable ally if you would consent to work with us.” + +“What is it that you wish me to do?” asked Jane wonderingly. “You’ll +have to tell me how to go about it.” + +“All a good detective needs,” said Mr. Fleck, “is, let us say, three +things—observation, addition and common sense. You must observe +everything closely, be able to put two and two together and use your +common sense. Do you know the Hoffs by sight?” + +“Only by sight.” + +“They live in the next apartment on your floor, do they not?” + +“Yes. Young Mr. Hoff’s bedroom is the room next to mine.” + +“Good,” cried Mr. Fleck. “Can you hear anything from the next +apartment, any conversations?” + +“No, only muffled sounds.” + +“The windows overlook the river and the transports, do they not?” + +“Yes, the windows of Mr. Hoff’s bedroom and the room next. Their +apartment is a duplicate of ours.” + +Mr. Fleck sprang up and crossed to the big safe. Opening an inner +drawer he took out a small metal disk and handed it to her. Jane looked +at it curiously. It bore no wording save the inscription “K-19.” + +“That,” said Mr. Fleck, “is the only thing I can give you in the way of +credentials. Keep it somewhere safely concealed about your clothing and +never exhibit it except in case of extreme necessity. If ever you are +in peril any police officer will recognize it at once and will promptly +give you all the assistance possible.” + +“But,” protested the girl, “I don’t know yet what I am to do.” + +“For the present I am trusting to your resourcefulness to make +opportunities to help us. We are watching the house closely from the +outside. Carter will identify you to the other operatives. Once a day I +will expect you to call me up, not from your home but from a public +’phone. Here is my number. Say ‘this is Miss Jones speaking,’ and I +will know who it is. I can communicate with you by note without +arousing suspicion?” + +“Oh, yes, certainly.” + +“If at any time I have to call you on the ’phone, or if any of the +other operatives want to communicate with you the password will be ‘I +am speaking for Miss Jones.’” + +“Isn’t that exciting—a secret password,” cried Jane enthusiastically. + +“If you can manage it without compromising yourself too seriously, I +wish you would make the young man’s acquaintance.” + +“That will be simple,” said Jane, remembering the admiring way in which +he had raised his cup in her direction as she left the hotel. + +“If possible find out who their visitors are in the apartment and keep +your eyes open for any sort of signalling to the transports. If ever +there is an opportunity to get hold of notes or mail delivered to +either of them, don’t hesitate to steam it open and copy it.” + +“Must I?” said Jane. “That hardly seems right or fair.” + +“Of course it’s right,” cried Mr. Fleck warmly. “Think of the lives of +our soldiers that are at stake. The devilish ingenuity of these German +spies must be thwarted at all costs. They seem to be able to discover +every detail of our plans. Only two days ago one of our transports was +thoroughly inspected from stem to stern. Two hours later twenty-six +hundred soldiers were put aboard her on their way to France. Just by +accident, as they were about to sail, a time-bomb was discovered in the +coal bunkers, a bomb that would have sent them all to kingdom come.” + +“How terrible!” + +“Somebody aboard is a traitor. Somebody knew when that inspection was +made. Somebody put that bomb in place afterward. That shows you the +kind of enemies we are fighting.” + +Jane shuddered. She was thinking of the sailing of another transport, +the one that had carried her brother to France. + +“Anything seems right after that,” she said simply. + +“Yes,” said Mr. Fleck, “there is only one effective way to fight those +spying devils. We must stop at nothing. They stop at nothing—not even +murder—to gain their ends.” + +“I know that,” said Jane hastily. “I saw something myself you ought to +know about.” + +As briefly as she could she described the scene she had witnessed in +the early morning hours from her bedroom window, the man following the +younger Hoff, Hoff’s discovery and pursuit of him around the corner and +of his return alone. + +“And in the morning,” she concluded, “they found a man’s body in the +side street. He had a bullet through his heart. There was a revolver in +his hand. The newspapers said that the police and the coroner were +satisfied that it was a suicide. I caught a glimpse of Mr. Hoff’s face +when he came back from around that corner. It was all convulsed with +hate, the most terrible expression I ever saw. I’m almost certain he +murdered that man. I’m sure it wasn’t a suicide.” + +“I’m sure, too, that it was no suicide,” said Mr. Fleck gravely. “The +man who was found there was one of my men, K-19, the man whose badge I +have just given you. He had been detailed to shadow the Hoffs.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV +THE CLUE IN THE BOOK + + +Subway passengers sitting opposite Jane Strong as she rode up-town from +Mr. Fleck’s office, if they observed her at all—and most of them +did—saw only a slim, good-looking young girl, dressed in a chic +tailormade suit, crowned with a dashing Paris hat tilted at the proper +angle to display best the sheen of her black, black hair, which after +the prevailing fashion was pulled forward becomingly over her ears. +Outwardly Jane was unchanged, but within her nerves were all atingle at +the thought of the tremendous and fascinating responsibility so +unexpectedly thrust upon her. Her mind, too, was aflame with patriotic +ardor, but coupled with these new sensations was a persisting sense of +dread, an intangible, unforgettable feeling of horror that kept +cropping up every time her fingers touched the little metal disk in her +purse. + +The man who had carried it yesterday, the other “K-19” who had +undertaken to shadow those people next door, now lay dead with a bullet +through his heart. Was there, she wondered, a similar peril confronting +her? Would her life be in danger, too? Was that the reason Mr. Fleck +had told her of her predecessor’s fate—to warn her how desperate were +the men against whom she was to match her wits? Yet no sense of fear +that projected itself into her busy brain as she cogitated over the +task before her held her back. If anything she was rather thrilled at +the prospect of meeting actual danger. What bothered her most was how +she could best go about aiding Mr. Fleck and his men in their work. + +Her opportunity came far more quickly than she had anticipated. She had +gotten off the train at the 96th Street station, purposing to walk the +twenty odd blocks to her home as she pondered over the work that lay +ahead of her. Busy with a horde of struggling new thoughts she +proceeded along Broadway, for once in her life unheeding the rich gowns +and feminine dainties so alluringly displayed in the shop windows. +Suddenly she pulled herself together with a start. Directly ahead of +her, plodding along in the same direction, was a figure that from +behind seemed strangely familiar. She quickened her step until she +caught up sufficiently with the man ahead to get a good glimpse of his +side face. Nervously she caught her breath. Without any doubt it was +the gray Van Dyke beard of old Otto Hoff. + +Where was he going? What was he doing? She paused and looked behind +her, scanning the pavement on both sides of the street. She was +half-hoping that she would discover Carter or some of his men shadowing +their quarry, but her hope was vain. There was no one in the block at +the moment but herself and Mr. Hoff. If Fleck’s men had been watching +his movements, the old man certainly seemed to have eluded them. + +What should she do? Vividly there flashed into her mind her chief’s +parting words. + +“Watch everything,” he had charged her. “Remember everything, report +everything. No detail is too unimportant. If you see one of the Hoffs +leave the house, don’t merely report to me that the old man or the +young man left the house about three o’clock. That won’t do at all. I +want to know the exact time. Was it six minutes after three or eleven +minutes after three? I must know what direction he went, if he was +alone, how long he was absent, where he went, what he did, to whom he +talked. Here in my office I take your reports, Carter’s reports, a +dozen other reports, and study them together. Things that in themselves +seem trifling, unimportant, of no value, coupled with other seemingly +unimportant trifles sometimes develop most important evidence.” + +To prove his point he had told her of the seemingly innocent wireless +message that an operator, listening in, had picked up, at a time when +Germans were still permitted to use the wireless station on Long Island +for commercial messages to the Fatherland. On the face of it, it was +the mere announcement of the death of a relative with a few details. +But a little later the same operator caught the same message coming +from another part of the country, with the details slightly different, +and still later another message of the same purport. Evidently, by +comparing the messages, the United States authorities had been able to +work out a code. + +Remembering this, Jane decided that it was her particular duty just now +to follow the old German and note everything he did. For several blocks +she trailed along behind him, without arousing any suspicion on his +part that he was being followed. He stopped once to light a cigarette, +the girl behind him diverting suspicion by hastily turning to a shop +window. Again he stopped, this time before the display of viands in the +window of a delicatessen store. Thoughtfully Jane noted the number, +observing, too, that the name of the proprietor above the door was +obviously Teutonic. She was half-expecting to see her quarry turn in +here, but he walked on to the middle of the next block, where he +entered a stationery store. + +Hesitating but a second, to decide on a course of action, she followed +him boldly into the store. She felt that she must ascertain just what +he was doing in there. As she entered she saw that in the back part of +the store was a lending library. Mr. Hoff had gone back to it and was +inspecting the books displayed there. Unhesitatingly she, too, +approached the book counter. + +“Have you ‘Limehouse Nights’?” she asked the attendant, naming the +first book that came into her head. She had a copy of the book at home, +but that seemed to be the only title she could think of. + +“We have several copies,” the girl in charge answered, “but I think +they are all out. I’ll look.” + +As the clerk examined the shelves, Jane kept up a desultory talk with +her, questioning her about various books on the shelves, all the while +watching the old German out of the corner of her eye. His back was +toward her, and he seemed to be examining various books on the shelves, +turning over the pages as if unable to decide what he wanted. Curious +as to what his taste in reading was, Jane endeavored to locate each +book that he removed from its place, her idea being that she would +later try to discover their titles. To her amazement she found that it +was invariably the third book in each shelf that he removed and +examined—the third from the end. It did not appear to her that he was +examining the contents of the pages so much as searching them as if he +expected to find something there. + +All at once, as she furtively watched from behind him, she heard him +give a little pleased grunt and she saw him picking out from between +the leaves of the book a fragment of paper, which he held concealed in +his hand. Watching closely, Jane saw him thrust this same hand into his +trousers pocket, and when he brought it out she was certain that the +hand was empty. What did this curious performance mean? What was the +little slip of paper he had found in the book? Why had he concealed it +in his pocket? + +Still keeping her attention riveted on him, she picked up a book to +mask her occupation and pretended to be turning its pages. She was glad +she had done so, for a minute later old Hoff wheeled suddenly and +looked sharply about him. Apparently having his suspicions disarmed by +seeing only herself and the clerk there, he turned again to the +bookshelves. Jane this time saw him thrust his fingers into his +waistcoat pocket and withdraw therefrom,—she was almost certain of +it,—a little slip of paper. She saw him remove from the second row of +books the fifth from the end, open it quickly and close it again and +then restore it to its place. As he did so he turned to leave the +store. + +“Didn’t you find anything to read to-day, Mr. Hoff?” the clerk asked. + +“Nodding,” he answered. “You keep novels, trash, nodding worth while.” + +Her nerves aquiver, Jane waited until he was out of the store and then +stepped briskly to the place where he had stood. Hastily she pulled +forth the fifth book from the end in the second row. Turning its pages +she came upon what she had anticipated,—a strip of yellow manila +paper,—the paper she was sure she had seen him take from his pocket. +Hastily she examined it, expecting to find some message written there. +To her chagrin it was just a meaningless jumble of figures in three +columns. + +534 5 2 331 54 6 544 76 3 +49 12 9 540 30 12 390 3 2 519 3 6 +327 20 2 + 97 + +Her first thought was to thrust the little scrap of paper in her purse +and start again in pursuit of old Hoff, but a sudden light began to +dawn on her. This was a cipher message, of course. The old man had left +it here for some one to come and get. If she followed Hoff, how was she +to discover who the message was for? Puzzled as to what she should do, +she borrowed a pencil from the clerk on the pretense of writing a +postal and hastily copied the figures, after which she restored the +slip to the book in which she had found it. + +Glancing about undecidedly, wondering if it would do to take the clerk +into her confidence, wishing she had some means of reaching Mr. Fleck +and asking his advice, she spied in a drug-store just across the street +a telephone booth. She could telephone from there and at the same time +keep her eye on the store. Quickly she did so, twisting her head around +all the time she was ’phoning to make sure that no one entered +opposite. + +“Is this Mr. Fleck?” she asked. “This is Miss Jones.” + +“So soon?” came back his voice. “What has happened? What is the matter? +Have you changed your mind?” + +“Not at all,” she answered indignantly. “I’ve discovered something +already—a cipher message.” + +“What’s that?” + +Even over the wire she could sense the eagerness in Mr. Fleck’s tone, +and a sense of achievement brought a radiant glow to her cheek. + +“I ran into that man—you know whom—” + +“The young one?” he interrupted. + +“No, the uncle.” + +“Yes, yes, go on,” cried Mr. Fleck impatiently. + +“I followed him along Broadway after I got off at 96th Street and into +a library and stationery store. I watched him fuss over the books +there, and I think he got a slip of paper with a message out of one of +them.” + +“Good,” cried Mr. Fleck, “that is something new. Go on.” + +“And then he slipped a paper into a book—” + +“Did you notice what book?” + +“I don’t know the title. It was the fifth book from the end on the +second shelf, and I got the paper and copied it.” + +“Splendid. What did the message say?” + +“It’s just a lot of figures. I put it back after copying it, and I am +in a drug-store across the street where I can watch to see if any one +comes to get the message. What shall I do now?” + +“Can you remain there fifteen minutes without arousing suspicion?” + +“Certainly. I’ll say I am waiting for some one.” + +“Good. I’ll get in touch with Carter at once. He’ll tell you what to do +when he arrives.” + +Impatiently Jane sat there, keeping vigilant watch on the entrance +across the street, determined to be able to describe minutely each +person that entered. From time to time she surreptitiously studied the +postcard on which she had jotted down the mysterious numbers. How +utterly meaningless they looked. Surely it would be impossible for any +one, even Mr. Fleck, to decipher any message that these figures might +convey. It would be impossible unless one had the key. Figures could be +made to mean anything at all. She doubted if her discovery could be of +much importance after all, yet certainly Mr. Fleck had seemed quite +excited about it. + +She spied Carter passing in a taxi. Two other men were with him. Her +first impulse was to run out in the street and signal to him, but she +waited, wondering what she should do. She was glad she had not acted +impulsively, for a moment later Carter entered alone, evidently having +left the car somewhere around the corner. She expected that he would +address her at once, but that was not Carter’s way. He went to the soda +counter and ordered something to drink, his eyes all the while studying +his surroundings. Presently he pretended to discover her sitting there. +To all appearances it might have been an entirely casual meeting of +acquaintances. + +“Good-morning, Miss Jones,” he said quite cordially, extending his +hand. “I’m lucky to have met you, for my daughter gave me a message for +you.” + +He put just a little stress on the words “my daughter” and Jane +understood that he was referring to “Mr. Fleck.” + +“Indeed,” she replied, “what is it?” + +“She wants you to go down-town at once and meet her at Room 708—you +know the building.” + +“Aren’t you coming, too?” + +“Not right away. I have some errands to do in the neighborhood. I’ve +got to buy a book for a birthday present. There’s a library around here +somewhere, isn’t there?” + +“Just across the street,” said Jane, entering into the spirit of the +masked conversation with interest. “I was looking at a fine book over +there a few minutes ago. You’ll find it on the second shelf—the fifth +book from the end, on the north side of the store.” + +“I’ll remember that,” said Carter, repeating, “the fifth book on the +second shelf.” + +“That’s right,” said Jane, as they left the drug-store together. + +“Which way did the old man go?” asked Carter. + +“Down Broadway—toward home,” she replied. “I wanted to follow him, but +it seemed more important to stay here and watch to see if any one came +for the message he left there in the book.” + +“You did just right, and the Chief is tickled to death. He wants to see +you right away. You have a copy of the message, haven’t you?” + +“Yes, do you wish to see it?” + +“No, but he does. Has anybody entered the store since you were there?” + +“Nobody, that is no one but a couple of girls.” + +“What did they look like? Describe them.” + +“Why,” Jane faltered, “I did not really notice. I was not looking for +girls. I was watching to see that no other men entered the store.” + +Carter shook his head. + +“You ought to have spotted them, too. You never can tell who the +Germans will employ. They have women spies, too,—clever ones.” + +“I never thought of their using girls,” protested Jane. + +“Humph,” snapped Carter, “ain’t we using you? Ain’t one of our best +little operatives right this minute working in a nursegirl’s garb +pulling a baby carriage with a baby in it up and down Riverside Drive? +Well, it can’t be helped. You’d better beat it down-town to the Chief +right away.” + +“I’ll take a subway express,” said Jane, feeling somewhat crestfallen +at his implied suggestion of failure. + +Twenty-five minutes later found her once more in Mr. Fleck’s office. +Thrilling with the excitement of it all she told him in detail how she +had followed old Hoff and of his peculiar actions in the bookstore. + +“And here,” she said, presenting the postcard, “is an exact copy of the +cipher message he left there. I copied every figure, in the columns, +just as they were set down. I don’t suppose though you’ll be able to +make head or tail out of it. I know I can’t.” + +“Don’t be too sure of that,” smiled Chief Fleck, as he took the card. +“When you get used to codes, most of them identify themselves at the +first glance—at least they tell what kind of a code it is. That’s one +thing about the Germans that makes their spy work clumsy at times. They +are so methodical that they commit everything to writing. Now the most +important things I know are right in here”—he tapped his head. “Every +once in a while they ransack my rooms, but they never find anything +worth while. Now this code”—he was studying the card intently—“seems to +be one of a sort that our friends from Wilhelmstrasse are ridiculously +fond of using. It is manifestly a book code.” + +“A book code,” Jane repeated perplexedly. “I don’t understand.” + +“It is very simple when two persons who wish to communicate with each +other secretly both have a copy of some book they have agreed to use. +They write their message out and then go through the book locating the +words of the message by page, line and word. That’s what the three +columns mean. Our only problem is to discover which is the book they +both have. They often employ the Bible or a dictionary or—” + +He stopped abruptly and studied the columns of figures. + +“This code,” he went on, “on its face is from a book that has at least +544 pages. One of the pages has at least 76 lines—that’s the middle +column—so the book must be set in small type.” + +“What book do you suppose it is?” asked Jane interestedly. She was glad +now that she had listened to Carter. She was sure she was going to like +being in the service. It was all so interesting, and she was learning +so many fascinating things. + +“If my theory is right those letters indicate that the book used was an +almanac. That’s the book that Wilhelmstrasse made use of when a +wireless message was sent in cipher to the German ambassador directing +him to warn Americans not to sail on the Lusitania. They betrayed +themselves at the Embassy by sending out to buy a copy of this almanac. +Let’s see how our theory works out.” + +Taking up an almanac that lay on his desk he began turning to the pages +indicated in the first column of figures, checking off the lines +indicated in the second column and putting a ring around the words +marked by the third column of figures. + +“Let’s see—page 534—fifth line—second word—that’s (eight). Now +then—page 331—that’s the chronology of the war in the almanac, so I +guess we are on the right track—fifty-fourth line—sixth +word—(transport).” + +“Isn’t it wonderful!” cried Jane. + +“Damn them,” he exploded. “I know we are on the right track. Some +transports with our troops sailed this morning, and already the German +spies are spreading the news, hoping to get it to one of their +unspeakable U-boats.” + +Quickly he ran through the rest of the cipher, writing it out as he +went along: + +EIGHT—TRANSPORT—SAILED—THURSDAY—15,000—INFANTRY—FIVE DESTROYERS. + +As Fleck finished the message his face became almost black with rage. + +“Damn them,” he cried again, “in spite of everything we do they get +track of all our troop movements. Their information, whenever we +succeed in intercepting it, is always accurate. If I had my way I’d +lock up every German in the country until the war was over, and I’d +shoot a lot of those I locked up. Until the whole country realizes that +we are living in a nest of spies—that there are German spies all around +us, in every city, in every factory, in every regiment, on every ship, +everywhere right next door to us—this country never can win the war.” + +“What does the ‘97’ at the end mean?” questioned Jane timidly, a little +bit frightened at his outburst, yet more than ever realizing the vast +importance of his work—and hers. + +“Oh, that’s nothing. Probably old Hoff’s number. Most spies are known +just by numbers.” + +“Yes, of course,” said Jane, flushing as she recalled that she herself +was now “K-19.” Was she a spy? Was Mr. Fleck a chief of spies? She +always had looked on a spy as a despicable sort of person, yet surely +the work in which they both were engaged was vital to American success +at arms—a patriotic and important service for one’s country. + +“I suppose,” she said thoughtfully, unwilling to pursue the chain of +her own thought any further, “that there is evidence enough now to +arrest old Mr. Hoff right away.” + +“You bet there is,” said Mr. Fleck emphatically, “but that is the last +thing I am thinking of doing yet. He is only one link in a great chain +that extends from our battleships and transports there in the North +River clear into the heart of Berlin. We’ve got to locate both ends of +the chain before we start smashing the links. We’ve got to find who it +is in this country that is supplying the money for all their nefarious +work, from whom they get their orders, how they smuggle their news out. +Most of all we have got to find where the end of the chain is fastened +in our own navy. The traitors there are the black-hearted rascals I +would most like to get. They are the ones we’ve got to get.” + +“Yes, indeed,” assented Jane, suddenly recalling the navy lieutenant +she had seen in the Ritz chatting so confidentially with old Otto +Hoff’s nephew. Was he, she wondered, one of the links in the terrible +chain? Was he the end—the American end of the chain? + +“We’re certain about the old man now,” said Fleck, rising as if to +indicate that the interview was at an end. “We’ve got to get the young +fellow next. There is nothing in this to implicate him. That’s your +job. Find out all you can about him. Get acquainted with him, if +possible. That’s one of the weakest spots about all German spies. They +can’t help boasting to women. Try to get to know this Fred Hoff. It’s +most important.” + +“I’ll do more than try,” said Jane spiritedly. “I’ll get acquainted +right away. I’ll make him talk to me.” + + + + +CHAPTER V +ON THE TRAIL + + +Few men, even fathers, realize how utterly inexperienced is the average +well-brought-up girl, just emerged from her teens, in the affairs of +the great mysterious world that lies about her. A boy, in his youth +living over again the history of his progenitors, escapes his nurse to +become an adventurer. At ten he is a pirate, at twelve a train robber, +at fourteen an aviator, actually living in all his thoughts and +experiences the life of his hero of the moment, learning all the while +that the world about him is full of adventurers like himself, ready to +dispute his claims at the slightest pretext, or to carry off his booty +by prevailing physical force. + +Well-brought-up girls seldom are fortunate enough to have such +educative experiences. Their friends are selected for them, gentle +untaught creatures like themselves. Few of them learn much of the +practical side of life. A boy is delighted at knowing the toughest boy +in the neighborhood. A girl’s ambitions always are to know girls +“nicer” than she is. The average girl emerges into womanhood with her +eyes blinded, uninformed on the affairs of life, business, politics, +untrained in anything useful or practical, knowing more of romance and +history than she does of present-day facts. + +If Chief Fleck had understood how really inexperienced Jane Strong +actually was, it is a question whether he would have ventured to +entrust so important a mission to her as he had done. Jane herself, as +she left his office, aroused by his revelations of the treacherous work +of Germany’s spies, and uplifted by his appeal to her patriotism, felt +enthusiastically capable of obeying his instructions. It seemed very +simple, as he had talked about it. All she had to do was to get +acquainted with the young man next door. Yet the further the subway +carried her from Mr. Fleck’s office after her second visit there that +morning, the more her heart sank within her, and the fuller her mind +became of misgivings. + +In a big city next door in an apartment house is almost the same thing +as miles away. She ransacked her brain, trying to remember some +acquaintance who might be likely to know the Hoffs, but failed utterly +to recall any one. She reviewed all possible means of getting +acquainted but could find none that seemed practical. Never in her life +had she spoken to a man without having been introduced to him—except of +course to Carter and Mr. Fleck, and these men, she told herself, were +government officials, something like policemen, only nicer. At any +rate, she knew them only in a business way, not socially. If she was to +be successful in learning much about the Hoffs—about young Mr. Hoff—she +felt that it was necessary to make them social acquaintances. + +She must manage to meet Frederic Hoff in some proper way, but how? She +thought of such flimsy tricks as dropping a handkerchief or a purse in +the elevator some time when he happened to be in it, but rejected the +plan as disadvantageous. “Nice” girls did not do that sort of thing, +and even though she was seeking to entrap her neighbor she did not for +a moment wish him to consider her as belonging to the other sort. It +rather annoyed her to find that she cared what kind of an impression +she made on him. What difference did it make what a German spy thought +of her, especially a murderer? Yet, she argued with herself, the better +the impression she made at first the more likely she would be to gain +his confidence, and that she knew would delight Mr. Fleck. Was Frederic +Hoff, too, really, she wondered, a spy? Her face colored as she +recalled the mental picture she last had had of him, gallantly and +admiringly raising his cup to her as she left the Ritz, not obtrusively +or impudently, but so subtly that she was sure that no one had observed +it but herself. It seemed preposterous to associate the thought of +murder with a man like him. + +As she entered the apartment house she was arguing still with herself +about him. Her intuition told her that Frederic Hoff was a gentleman, +and how could a gentleman be what Mr. Fleck seemed to think he was? As +the door swung to behind her she gave a little quick breath of delight, +for she had caught sight of a uniformed figure standing by the +switchboard. She had recognized him at once. It was the naval +lieutenant who had been at the Ritz. She heard him saying to the girl +at the switchboard: + +“Tell Mr. Hoff, young Mr. Hoff, that Lieutenant Kramer is here. I’ll +wait for him down-stairs.” + +Quick as a flash a course of action came into her mind. She saw an +opportunity too good to be neglected. She hurried forward to where the +lieutenant was standing, her hand outstretched, with a smile of +recognition—feigned, but well-feigned—on her lips. + +“Why, Lieutenant Kramer,” she cried, “how delightful. Have you really +kept your promise at last and come to see the Strongs?” + +She could hardly restrain her amusement as she watched the embarrassed +young officer strive in vain to recall where it was that he had met +her. She had relied on the fact that the men in the navy meet so many +girls at social functions that it is impossible for any of them to +remember all they had met. + +“Really, Miss—” he stammered, struggling for some fitting explanation. + +“Don’t tell me,” she warned reprovingly, “that it isn’t Jane Strong +that you are here to see, after all those nice things you said to me +that day we had tea aboard your ship.” + +She was hoping he would not insist on going into particulars as to +which ship it was. Fortunately she had been to functions on several of +the war vessels, so that she might find a loop-hole if he was too +insistent on details. + +“Indeed, Miss Strong,” said Kramer, gallantly pretending to recall her, +“I’m delighted to see you again. I’ve been intending to come to see you +for ever so long, but you understand how busy we are now. In fact, it +was business that brought me here to-day. I’m calling on Mr. Hoff, who +lives here, to take him to lunch to discuss some important matters.” + +At his last phrase Jane’s heart thrilled. What important matters could +there be that a navy lieutenant could fittingly discuss with a German, +with the nephew of the man whose secret code message they had just +succeeded in reading? Determining within herself to keep fast hold on +the beginning she had made, she masked her real thoughts and let her +face express frank disappointment. + +“How horrid of you,” she continued, “when I was just going to insist +that you stay and have luncheon with us.” + +He was protesting that it was quite out of the question when the +elevator brought down her mother, whom Jane at once summoned as an +ally, feeling sure that considering how many men of her daughter’s +acquaintance she had met, it would be perfectly safe to keep up the +deception. + +“Oh, mother,” she cried, “you remember Lieutenant Kramer, don’t you? +I’ve just been urging him to stay and have luncheon with us. Do help me +persuade him.” + +“Of course I remember Mr. Kramer,” fibbed the matron cordially, all +unaware of her daughter’s duplicity. “Do stay, Mr. Kramer, and have +luncheon with Jane. I ordered luncheon for four, expecting to be home, +and now I’ve been called away, but your aunt is there to chaperone you. +It spoils the servants so to prepare meals and have no one to eat them, +to say nothing of displeasing Mr. Hoover. It’s really your duty—your +duty as a patriot—to stay and prevent a food-waste.” + +“I’ve just been trying to explain to your daughter that I was taking +Mr. Hoff to luncheon with me. Here he is now.” + +Mrs. Strong’s eyes swept the tall figure approaching appraisingly and +apparently was pleased with his aspect. As Mr. Hoff was presented she +hastened to include him in the invitation to luncheon. + +“Have pity on a poor girl doomed to eat a lonely luncheon by her +parent’s neglect,” urged Jane. “Really, you must come, both of you. +Nice men to talk to are so scarce in these war times that I have no +intention of letting you escape.” + +“I’m in Kramer’s hands,” said Frederic Hoff gallantly, “but if he takes +me to some wretched hotel instead of accepting such a charming +invitation as this, my opinion of him as a host will be shattered.” + +“But,” struggled Kramer, realizing that it must be a case of mistaken +identity and sure now that he never had met either Jane or her mother +before, “we have some business to talk over.” + +“Business always can wait a fair lady’s pleasure,” said Hoff. “Is this +ruthless war making you navy men ungallant?” + +With a mock gesture of surrender, and as a matter of fact, not at all +averse to pursuing the adventure further, Lieutenant Kramer permitted +Jane to lead the way to the Strong apartment. + +Soon, with the familiarity of youth and high spirits, the three of them +were merrily chatting on the weather, the war, the theater and all +manner of things. Jane, in the midst of the conversation, could not +help noting that Hoff had seated himself in a chair by the window where +he seemed to be keeping a vigilant eye on the ships that could be seen +from there. Even at the luncheon table he got up once and walked to the +window to look out, making some clumsy excuse about the beautiful view. + +Determined to press the opportunity, Jane endeavored to turn the +conversation into personal channels. + +“You are an American,” she said turning to Hoff, “are you not? I’m +surprised that you are not in uniform, too.” + +“A man does not necessarily need to be in uniform to be serving his +government,” he replied. “Perhaps I am doing something more important.” + +“But you are an American, aren’t you?” she persisted almost impudently, +driven on by her eagerness to learn all she possibly could about him. + +“I was born in Cincinnati,” he replied hesitantly. + +She could not help observing how diplomatically he had parried both her +questions. Mentally she recorded his exact words with the idea in her +mind of repeating what he had said verbatim to her chief. + +“Then you _are_ doing work for the government?” + +Intensely she waited for his answer. Surely he could find no way of +evading such a direct inquiry as this. + +“Every man who believes in his own country,” he answered, modestly +enough, yet with a curious reservation that puzzled her, “in times like +these is doing his bit.” + +She felt far from satisfied. If he was born in America, if he really +was an American at heart, his replies would have been reassuring, but +his name was Hoff. His uncle was a German-American, a proved spy or at +least a messenger for spies. If her guest still considered Prussia his +fatherland the answers he had made would fit equally well. + +“You’re just as provokingly secretive as these navy men,” she taunted +him. “When I try to find out now where any of my friends in the navy +are stationed they won’t tell me a thing, will they, Mr. Kramer?” + +“I’ll tell you where they all are,” said Lieutenant Kramer. “Every +letter I’ve had from abroad recently from chaps in the service has had +the same address—‘A deleted port.’” + +“I really think the government is far too strict about it,” she +continued. “My only brother is over there now fighting. All we know is +that he is ‘Somewhere in France.’ War makes it hard on all of us.” + +“Yet after all,” said Hoff soberly, “what are our hardships here +compared to what people are suffering over there, in France, in +Belgium, in Germany, even in the neutral countries. They know over +there, they have known for three years, greater horrors than we can +imagine.” + +The longer she chatted with him, the more puzzled Jane became. He +seemed to speak with sincerity and feeling. Her intuition told her that +he was a man of honor and high ideals, and yet in everything he said +there was always reserve, hesitation, caution, as if he weighed every +word before uttering it. Intently she listened, hoping to catch some +intonation, some awkward arrangement of words that might betray his +tongue for German, but the English he spoke was perfect—not the English +of the United States nor yet of England, but rather the manner of +speech that one hears from the world-traveler. Question after question +she put, hoping to trap him into some admission, but skilfully he +eluded her efforts. She decided at last to try more direct tactics. + +“Your name has a German sound. It is German, isn’t it?” she asked. + +“I told you I was born in Cincinnati,” he answered laughingly. “Some +people insist that that is a German province.” + +“But you have been in Germany, haven’t you?” + +“Why do you ask?” + +“I was wondering if you had not lived in that country?” + +“I could not well have been there without having lived there, could I?” + +Kramer came to her rescue. + +“Of course he has lived there. Mr. Hoff and I both attended German +universities. That was what brought us together at the start—our common +bond.” + +“Did you attend the same university?” asked Jane. She felt that at last +she was on the point of finding out something worth while. + +“No,” said Kramer, “unfortunately it was not the same university.” + +She caught her breath and blushed guiltily. If Mr. Kramer had attended +a German university he could not be an Annapolis graduate. He must be a +recent comer in the American navy. She knew that since the war began +some civilians had been admitted. It had just dawned on her that if +this was the case, since visiting on board ships was no longer +permitted, it clearly was impossible for her to have met him at any +function on a warship. He must have known all along that she knew she +never had met him. He must have been aware, too, that her mother did +not know him. She felt that she was getting into perilous waters and +fearful of making more blunders refrained from further questions. A +vague alarm began to agitate her. If he had detected her ruse when she +first had spoken to him, why had he not admitted it? What had been his +purpose in accepting her invitation and in bringing into it his German +friend, Mr. Hoff? + +The ringing of the telephone bell came as a welcome interruption. A +maid summoned her to answer a call, and excusing herself from the table +she went to the ’phone desk in the foyer. + +“Hello, is this you, Miss Strong?” + +It was Carter’s voice, but from the anxious stress in it she judged +that he was in a state of great perturbation. + +“Yes, it is Jane Strong speaking,” she answered. + +“You know who this is?” + +“Of course. I recognize your voice. It’s Mr. C—” + +A warning “sst” over the ’phone checked her before she pronounced the +name and starting guiltily she turned to look over her shoulder, +feeling relieved to see the two men still chatting at the table, +apparently paying no attention to her. + +“I understand,” she answered quickly. “What is it?” + +“You know that book I told you I was going to buy?” + +“Yes, yes!” + +“It’s not there.” + +“What’s that? The book is gone!” + +“The book is there all right, but it’s not the book I want.” + +“Are you sure,” she questioned, “that you looked at the right book?” + +“I looked at the one you told me to.” + +“Are you certain—the fifth book on the second shelf.” + + +Illustration: Had he been standing there listening? How much had he +heard? + + +She heard a movement behind her and turning quickly saw Frederic Hoff +standing behind her, his hat and stick in hand. Panic-stricken, she +hung up the receiver abruptly. Had he been standing there listening? +How much had he heard? He would know, of course, what “the fifth book +on the second shelf” signified. Had her carelessness betrayed to him +the fact that he and his uncle were being closely watched? Anxiously +she studied his face for some intimation of his thoughts. He was +standing there smiling at her, and to her agitated brain it seemed that +in his smile there was something sardonic, defying, challenging. + +“I cannot tell you, Miss Strong, how much I have enjoyed your +hospitality. You made the time so interesting that I had no idea it was +so late. You will excuse me if I tear myself away at once. I have some +important business that demands my immediate attention.” + +“I hope you’ll come again,” she managed to stammer, “and you, too, Mr. +Kramer.” + +White-faced and terrified she escorted them out, leaving the telephone +bell jangling angrily. As the door closed behind them, she sank weak +and faint into a chair, not daring yet to go again to the ’phone until +she was sure they were out of hearing. + +What was the “immediate business” that was calling them away so +suddenly? She was more than afraid that her incautious use of the +phrase “the fifth book on the second shelf” had betrayed her. What else +could it mean? Why else would they have departed so abruptly? + +Mustering up her strength and courage she went once more to the ’phone. + +“Hello, hello, is that you, Miss Strong? Some one cut us off,” Carter’s +voice was impatiently saying. + +“Hello, Mr. Carter,” she called, “this is Jane Strong speaking. Where +can I see you at once? It’s most important.” + +“I’ll be sitting on a bench along the Drive two blocks north of your +house inside of ten minutes.” + +“I’ll meet you there,” she answered quickly, with a feeling of relief. + +The situation was becoming far too complicated, she felt, for her to +handle alone. Carter would know what to do. If Hoff and Kramer had +learned from her about the trailing of old Hoff, the sooner it was +reported to more experienced operatives than she was the better. + +“Don’t speak to me when you see me sitting on the bench,” warned +Carter. “Just sit down there beside me and wait till I make sure no one +is watching us. I’ll speak to you when it’s safe.” + +“I understand,” she answered. “Good-by.” + +As she hastened to don her hat and coat she was almost overwhelmed by a +revulsion of feeling. Two days ago the world about her had seemed a +carefree, pleasant, even if sometimes boresome place. Now she +shudderingly saw it stripped of its mask and revealed for the first +time in all its hideousness, a place of murders and spying and secret +machinations. People about her were no longer more or less interesting +puppets in a play-world. They were vivid actualities, scheming and +planning to thwart and overcome each other. Almost she wished that her +dream had been undisturbed and that she had not been waked up to the +realities. Almost she was tempted to abandon her new-found occupation. + +Then, once more, a feeling of patriotic fervor swept over her. She +thought of her brother fighting somewhere in the trenches. She pictured +to herself the other brave soldiers in the great ships in the Hudson. +She remembered the evil plotters with their death-dealing bombs, +striving to bring about a ghastly end for them all before they might +strengthen the lines of the Allies. She thought, too, of those +humanity-defying U-boats, forever at their devilish work, guided to +their prey by crafty, spying creatures right here in New York, more +than likely by the very people next door. + +With her pretty lips set in a resolute line she left the house and +walked rapidly north. Come what may she would go on with it. Her +country needed her, and that was all-sufficient. + + + + +CHAPTER VI +THE MISSING MESSAGE + + +After Jane left Carter at the drug-store, he did not cross immediately +to the bookshop opposite. His detective work was not of that sort. He +strolled leisurely around the corner long enough to give some +directions to his two aides waiting there and then, moving across the +street, paused in front of the window of books as if something there +had attracted his attention. All the while he was keeping a sharp eye +for any person who looked as if they might be connected in any way with +old Hoff. Satisfied that his entrance was unobserved he strolled +casually in and began looking over the volumes in the lending library. +The lone clerk in the store—a young woman—at first volunteered some +suggestions, but as they went unheeded she returned to her work of +posting up the accounts. + +As soon as her attention was occupied Carter moved at once to the end +of the shelf that Miss Strong had indicated and removed the fifth book. +To his amazement he found nothing whatever concealed between the +leaves. The books on either side on the same shelf failed to yield up +anything. He tried the shelf above and the shelf below. Perhaps Miss +Strong had been mistaken in the directions. He examined the books at +the other end. There was nothing there. He recalled that the girl had +said that no one except two girls had entered the store between the +time she had discovered and copied the cipher and the time of his +arrival. If these girls had not taken the message away there could be +only one other explanation—the clerk in the bookstore must have removed +it and concealed it somewhere. + +“Which of the war books do you think the best?” he asked for the +purpose of starting a conversation. + +“There’s that many it is hard to say, sir,” the young woman answered. + +Something in her inflection made him look sharply at her. Her accent +surely was English, or possibly Canadian. A few judicious questions +quickly brought out the information that she came from Liverpool and +that she had three brothers in the British army. Carter decided that it +was preposterous to suspect her of being in league with German agents. +There was only one other thing that could have happened. Some one +else—some one who had eluded Miss Strong’s notice—had removed the +cipher message. + +Promptly he had telephoned to her to meet him. He was glad that he had +done so, for her evident perturbation as she answered the ’phone both +interested and puzzled him. Pausing just long enough to report to Chief +Fleck, he hastened to the rendezvous, arriving there first. He selected +a bench apart from the others, where the wall jutted out from the walk, +and seating himself, idled there as if merely watching the river. In +obedience with his instructions Jane, when she arrived, planted herself +nonchalantly on the same bench, and paying no attention to him, +pretended to be reading a letter. + +Presently Carter rose and stretching himself lazily, as if about to +leave, turned to face the Drive, his keen eyes taking in all the +passers-by. Apparently satisfied, he sat down abruptly and turned to +speak to the girl beside him. + +“All right, K-19,” he said, “it’s safe. Now we can talk.” + +“I’ve got such a lot to tell,” cried Jane. + +“First,” said Carter, “just where did you put that cipher message when +you put it back?” + +“What!” cried the girl, her face blanching, “wasn’t it there? Didn’t +you find it?” + +Carter shook his head. + +“It must be there,” she insisted. “Are you sure you looked in the right +book—the fifth book from the end on the second shelf on the up-town +side of the store.” + +“It’s not there. I examined every book there, on the shelves above and +below and at the other end, too.” + +“The clerk in the store, that girl—must have hidden it,” cried Jane +with conviction. + +“That’s not likely. She’s an English girl—from Liverpool. She has three +brothers fighting on the Allies’ side. We can leave her out of it.” + +“Who else could have taken it?” + +“There’s only one answer,” said Carter slowly and impressively. “Some +one went into that store between the time you copied the message and +the time I met you at the drug-store. You told me no one but a couple +of girls had entered. Was there any one else? Think—think!” + +“There was no one,” said Jane thoughtfully, “no one except the two +girls together. I never thought of suspecting them.” + +“What did they look like? Could you identify them?” + +“I did not notice them particularly,” Jane confessed. “I was expecting +Mr. Hoff’s confederate to be a man.” + +“They’re using a lot of women spies,” asserted Carter. “Don’t you +remember what the girls looked like?” + +“One of them,” said Jane thoughtfully, “wore an odd-shaped hat, a sort +of a tam with a red feather.” + +“Would you know the hat again if you saw it?” + +“I think—I’m sure I would.” + +“Well, that’s something. Watch for that hat, and if you ever see it +again trail the girl till you find out where she lives. If you locate +her telephone Mr. Fleck at once. And now, what has happened to you?” + +“I’ve so much to tell, important, very important, I think.” + +She hesitated, wondering how much Carter was in the chief’s confidence. +Did he know the import of the cipher message she had discovered? Ought +she to talk freely to him? + +“Do you know what those numbers meant?” she asked. + +“Yes,” he replied, “about the eight transports sailing. The Chief told +me about it.” + +“Well,” she said, with a sigh of relief, “I have become acquainted with +young Mr. Hoff already. I’ve just had luncheon with him.” + +“That’s fine,” he cried enthusiastically. “A lucky day it was I ran +across you.” + +“When you ’phoned me he was there in our apartment, he and a navy +lieutenant, Mr. Kramer.” + +Attentively he listened as she told of the ruse by which she had +inveigled them into coming to luncheon, reminding him that it was the +same naval officer that he himself had seen in close conversation with +Hoff at the Ritz the day before. He nodded his head in a satisfied way. + +“They are together too much to be up to any good,” he commented. “Tell +me the rest. What made you so rattled when I ’phoned you?” + +He listened intently as she told of finding young Hoff standing right +behind her as she had inadvertently mentioned aloud “the fifth book.” + +“Do you suppose,” she questioned anxiously, “that he overheard me and +understood what we were talking about? He left right away after that. I +do hope I didn’t betray the fact that they are being watched.” + +“We can’t tell yet,” said Carter. “The precautions they take and the +roundabout methods they have of communicating with each other show that +all Germany’s spies constantly act as if they knew they were under +surveillance. In fact, I suppose every German in this country, whether +he is a spy or not, can’t help but notice that his neighbors are +watching him—and well they might.” + +“I don’t see why,” cried Jane, “Mr. Fleck did not have old Mr. Hoff +locked up right away. He could not do any more damage then, or be +sending any more messages about our transports.” + +“That wouldn’t have done the least bit of good,” said Carter +decisively. “Watching our transports sail and spreading the news is +only one of many of their activities. Somewhere in this country there +is a master-council of German plotters, directing the secret movements +of many hundreds, perhaps many thousands of spies and secret agents. +They have their work well mapped out. They have men fomenting strikes +in the government shipyards and stirring up all kinds of labor +troubles. Others are busy making bombs and contriving diabolical +methods of crippling the machinery in munition plants. A flourishing +trade in false passports is being carried on, enabling their spies to +travel back and forth across the Atlantic in the guise of American +business men, ambulance drivers, Red Cross workers and what not. Still +others of their agents are detailed to arrange for the shipping of the +supplies Germany needs to neutral countries. By watching shipping +closely they gather information, too, that is of value to the U-boat +commanders. Every time there is any sort of activity against the draft, +or peace meetings, or Irish agitation, we find traces of German +handiwork. We have dismantled and sealed up every wireless plant we +could find in America except those under direct government control, yet +we are positive that every day wireless messages go from this country +somewhere—perhaps to Mexico or South America, and from there are +relayed to Germany, probably by way of Spain. Think of the enormous +amount of money required to finance these operations and keep all these +spies under pay. While we try to thwart their plans as we find them, +all our efforts are constantly directed toward discovering who controls +and finances their damnable system. We seldom if ever arrest any of the +spies we track down, but keep watching, watching, watching, hoping that +sooner or later the master-spy will be betrayed into our hands.” + +“You don’t think then,” said Jane disappointedly, “that old Mr. Hoff is +one of the important spies.” + +“We can’t tell yet. He may be just one of the cogs—perhaps what they +call a control-agent. We don’t know yet. Germany has been building up +her spy system forty years, and it is ingenious beyond imagination. Her +codes are the most difficult in the world. It took the French three +years and a half to decipher a code despatch from Von Bethmann Hollweg +to Baron von Schoen. By the time they had it deciphered in Paris the +Germans had discovered what they were doing and had changed the code. +It is seldom any one of the German spies knows much about the work that +other spies are doing. The rank and file merely get orders to go and do +such a thing, or find out about such a thing. Often they are not told +what they are doing it for. They obey their orders implicitly in detail +and make their reports, get new orders and go on to do something else. +Only their master spy-council here knows what the summary of their +efforts amounts to. Arresting old Hoff, or a dozen more like him, would +not cripple them much. Other men would be assigned in their places, and +the nefarious work would go on.” + +“I don’t know,” insisted Jane thoughtfully. “I believe that old Mr. +Hoff is a far bigger spoke in the wheel than you think. I watched his +face as I followed him this morning. He is a man of great intelligence, +and I should judge a man of education.” + +“They’d hardly be using a man of that sort to carry messages,” objected +Carter. “Maybe you’re right. We have not watched him long enough to +find out. We’ve got nothing yet on the young fellow. Maybe he’s the +real boss of the outfit. At any rate he is the one the Chief is anxious +to have you keep tabs on. Are you to see him again?” + +“Oh, yes,” the girl answered quickly, a touch of color coming to her +face, “I think so. I asked him to come to see me. I think—in fact I’m +sure—he will. Do you want me to watch the bookshop to see if they leave +any more messages there?” + +“No,” said Carter. “I’ve got one of my men assigned to that. You keep +after the young fellow. Say, does your father keep an automobile?” + +“Yes, but it’s been put up for the winter. We’re going to bring it out +as soon as Dad can find a chauffeur. Our man—the one we had last +year—has been drafted, and good chauffeurs are scarce now. Why did you +ask?” + +“I’ll find you a chauffeur,” said Carter decisively. + +“You mean”—Jane hesitated—“a detective?” + +Carter grinned. + +“An agent like you and me. K-27 is an expert chauffeur and mechanic +with fine references. His last job was with the British High +Commission, and they gave him good testimonials.” + +“What do you want him to do?” + +“Driving the Strong car makes a good excuse for him to be around +without exciting suspicion. He might even come up-stairs once in a +while to get orders or do little repair jobs around the apartment. Some +day, supposing the people next door were all out, he might even succeed +in planting a dictograph so that you could sit there in your room and +hear all that was going on and what the Hoffs talked about. That would +help a lot. If ever he was caught prowling about the hall, the fact +that he was your chauffeur would provide him with an alibi. Do you +think you can fix it up with your father?” + +“I’m sure of it. When can he come?” + +“The sooner the better—to-night—to-morrow.” + +“I’ll tell Dad at dinner to-night that I’ve learned of a good chauffeur +and have asked him to come in at eight this evening.” + +“Fine,” said Carter. “He’ll be there. And don’t forget to report once a +day to the Chief.” + +“I won’t.” + +“And if anything unexpected turns up,” said Carter, “and you need help, +take a good look at that nurse that is passing.” + +Jane turned curiously to inspect a buxom girl in a drab nurse’s costume +who was wheeling a baby carriage along the sidewalk near-by. Seeing +herself observed the girl stopped, and at a sign from Carter wheeled +her charge up to where they were standing. + +“K-22,” said Carter, “I want to introduce you to K-19.” + +Gravely the two girls, nodding, inspected each other. + +“She always wears a blue bow at her neck,” Carter added, “so you can +recognize her by that.” + +The girl smilingly nodded again and wheeled the carriage on up the +Drive. + +“Who is she?” Jane asked eagerly, turning to Carter. + +“Just K-22,” said the agent, “and all she knows about you is that you +are K-19. That’s the way we work in the service mostly. The less one +operative knows about another the better, for what you don’t know you +can’t talk about.” + +“Doesn’t she even know my name?” persisted Jane. + +“She may have found it out for herself while she has been watching the +Hoffs, but we didn’t tell her. Nobody in the service knows who you are +except the Chief and myself—and of course K-27 will have to know if he +takes the chauffeur’s job.” + +“What is his name?” + +“I don’t know yet,” said Carter gravely. “I haven’t seen his +references, so I don’t know what name they are made out in. You can +find out what to call him when he reports to-night. You’ll see that he +gets the job?” + +“Indeed I will,” answered Jane, experiencing a sense of relief at the +prospect of having some one at hand in the household with whom she +could discuss her activities. + +And as she had anticipated she had little difficulty in interesting her +father in the subject of a new chauffeur. Mr. Strong for several days +had been trying to find one without success. + +“You say this man’s last place was with the British High Commission.” + +“Some one of the girls was telling me,” she prevaricated. “I asked her +to tell him to come here to-night at eight. He ought to be here any +minute.” + +Presently the candidate for the place was announced. + +“Mr. Thomas Dean to see about a chauffeur’s position,” the maid said as +she brought him in, and while her father questioned him, Jane studied +him carefully. + +He could not be more than thirty, she decided, and the voice in which +he answered her father’s questions was surely a cultivated one. It +would not have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was a +college man. Even in his neat chauffeur’s uniform he seemed every inch +a gentleman. He had been driving a car for twelve years, he explained. +No, he did not drink and had never been arrested for speeding. + +“Are you a married man?” + +Jane listened curiously for his answer to this question of her +father’s. Surely it would be far more interesting if he wasn’t. Of +course, he was a chauffeur and a detective, but somehow she could not +help feeling, perhaps because of his easy manner, that more than likely +most of the cars he had driven were cars that he himself had owned. +K-27 she decided was going to be quite a satisfactory partner to work +with. + +“There’s just one thing,” said her father. “You say you are not +married. I can’t understand why it is that you are not in the army.” + +“I am not eligible,” said Thomas Dean calmly, though Jane thought she +could detect a twinkle in his eye. “One of my legs has been broken in +three places.” + +“But there are things a young fellow can do for his country besides +marching,” insisted Mr. Strong. “The government needs mechanics, too.” + +“I know,” said Thomas Dean, almost humbly, “but I have a mother, and my +father is dead.” + +Jane smiled a little to herself at his answer. She noted how carefully +he had avoided saying anything about having a mother to support. It +would not have surprised her in the least to have learned that he was a +millionaire, yet her father, ordinarily shrewd in judging men, +apparently was satisfied. + +“Supporting a mother, I suppose, comes first,” he said. “Well, Dean, +when can you come?” + +“To-morrow morning if you like,” the new chauffeur answered, nodding +gravely to Jane as he withdrew. + +Mr. Strong, as soon as they were alone, spoke enthusiastically about +the young man, complimenting Jane on having discovered him, and as he +did so a revulsion of feeling swept over her. For the first time she +realized into what duplicity her work for the government was leading +her. She had pledged her word to Chief Fleck that she would keep her +activities an absolute secret even from her parents. Already she was +deceiving them, bringing into the household an employee who really was +a detective, a spy. She was tempted to tell her father, at least, what +she was doing. He, she knew, was filled with a high spirit of +patriotism. While he might not wholly approve of what she herself was +doing she might be able to convince him of the necessity of it. If she +could only tell him, her conscience would not trouble her, but there +was her promise—her sacred promise; she couldn’t break that. + +While with troubled mind she debated with herself between her duty to +her parents and her duty to her country, one of the maids came in with +a box of flowers for her. + +Eagerly she cut the string and opened the box. Chief Fleck especially +wanted her to cultivate young Hoff’s acquaintance. If her suspicion as +to the sender were correct, she could feel that she had made an +auspicious beginning. + +In a tremor of excitement she snatched off the lid of the box and tore +out the accompanying card from its envelope. + +“Mr. Frederic Johann Hoff,” it read, “in appreciation of a most +profitable afternoon.” + +Wondering at the peculiar sentiment of the card she tore off the +enclosing tissue paper from the flowers. Orchids, wonderful, delicately +tinted orchids, nestled in a sheaf of feathery green fern—five of them. + +“Five orchids—the fifth book—a profitable afternoon.” + +Jane felt sure now she had betrayed the government’s watchers to at +least one of the watched. + + + + +CHAPTER VII +THE WOMAN ON THE ROOF + + +It is amazing how much information on any given subject any one—even a +wholly inexperienced person like Jane Strong—can acquire within a few +days when one’s mind is set resolutely to the task. It is much more +amazing how much one can learn when aided and abetted by an experienced +chauffeur, or more properly speaking a mysterious and cultured secret +service operative, masquerading as an automobile driver. + +Who Thomas Dean was, why he was in the secret service, and what his +real name was, were questions that kept perpetually puzzling Jane. In +the presence of her father and mother, so skilful an actor was he that +it was hard to believe him anything but what he appeared to be, a +respectful, intelligent and prompt young man who knew the traffic +regulations and the anatomy of automobiles. When he and Jane were by +themselves he invariably threw off his mask to some extent. He became +the director instead of the directed, though never letting anything of +the personal relation creep in. That he was college-bred, Jane felt +certain. He spoke both German and French much better than she did. He +occasionally used words that no ordinary chauffeur would be likely to +know the meaning of. Sharing the secret of such a mission as theirs, +they quickly found themselves on a friendly basis, yet the girl +hesitated whenever her curiosity prompted her to try to find out +anything that would reveal his identity. There was always present the +feeling that any exhibition of undue curiosity on her part would be a +disappointment to her employer. The chief disapproved of curiosity +except on one subject—what the Germans were doing. + +Many things Jane and her aide learned about the Hoffs in the days +following Thomas Dean’s coming, reporting them all as directed. Of how +much or of how little value her discoveries were Jane had no means of +knowing. Chief Fleck seemed satisfied but was always urging her to +acquire more information and more details, always details. Dean, too, +had seconded the warning about observing even what seemed to be +insignificant trifles. + +“Most of the Germans,” he said to her, “you will find are very +methodical. They like to do things according to schedule. For instance, +I learned yesterday that old Hoff and his nephew frequently go off on +all-day automobile trips. They always go on Wednesday.” + +“Are they going to-morrow?” + +“The presumption is that they will. They have done so every Wednesday +for six weeks.” + +“Can’t we follow them in our car?” cried the girl, “and see what they +are up to?” + +Dean shook his head. + +“The Chief is looking out for that. There is more important work for us +to do right here. I want to try to install a dictograph in their +apartment.” + +“How exciting.” + +“You must find some excuse for me to come up into your apartment and +see to it that none of your people are about.” + +“That will be easy. Mother and Aunt will be out all day, and it is +cook’s afternoon off. I can easily send the maids out.” + +“But that’s not all. There is the Hoffs’ servant to be disposed of.” + +“I don’t see how I can manage that,” said Jane. She could think of no +possible way of overcoming that difficulty. + +“She’s an old German woman—Lena Kraus,” continued Dean. “I’ve found out +that she always washes on Wednesdays. When she goes up on the roof in +the afternoon to get the clothes will be our time. It will be your job +to see that she stays there until I am through. It will not take me +more than half an hour.” + +“But what will I do if she starts to come down? How will I stop her?” + +“You’ll have to use your wits. Keep her talking as long as you can. +When she starts down come with her. Press the elevator button four +times. I’ll leave the door of the Hoff apartment open and very likely +will hear it in time to get away.” + +“But how’ll you get their door open?” + +Dean smilingly drew forth a key. + +“I borrowed the superintendent’s bunch last night, pretending I had +lost the key to my locker in the basement. I knew he had a master-key +that unlocks all the apartment doors, and there was no trouble in +picking it out. I had some wax in my hand and made an impression of it +right under his nose.” + +“How clever,” cried Jane, “but suppose the Hoffs do not go off +to-morrow. What will we do then?” + +“You are taking tea with young Hoff this afternoon, aren’t you?” + +“Yes,” said Jane, “that is, he asked me to. I am to meet him at the +Biltmore at five.” + +“When you’re with him propose doing something together to-morrow +afternoon. See what he says.” + +“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll ask him to go to the matinée with me.” + +“That will do splendidly. Has he been with that navy officer lately?” + +“Not since Sunday, to my knowledge. I wonder if old Mr. Hoff has left +any more cipher messages at the bookshop?” + +“No,” said Dean, “he hasn’t. The place has been constantly watched, but +he hasn’t been near it since that first day.” + +“I’m afraid,” sighed Jane despondently, “I betrayed the fact that we +were watching them to the nephew. He overheard me talking to Carter +about the ‘fifth book,’ and of course he knew what it meant. I’m +certain the old man is still reporting about our transports. Every day +I can hear some one telephoning to him. He waits for the message, and +then he goes out.” + +“He certainly is expert in eluding shadowers,” admitted Dean. “Every +day he has been followed, but always he manages to give the operatives +the slip. He must know he is being watched.” + +“I’m anxious to know what the nephew will say to me to-day,” said Jane. +“I know he knows what I am doing. He looks at me in such an amusedly +superior way every time he sees me.” + +“Be careful about trying to pump him,” cautioned Dean. “He strikes me +as by far the more intelligent of the two. It would not surprise me in +the least if he were not old Hoff’s nephew at all, but really his +superior, sent over especially by Wilhelmstrasse to take charge of the +plotters. He doesn’t in the least resemble old Hoff.” + +“No indeed, he doesn’t,” admitted Jane. “He certainly is clever, too. +We haven’t learned a single thing that incriminates him, have we?” + +“Nothing definite, yet everything taken together looks damaging enough. +Here is a young German of military age and appearance, who arrived from +Sweden just before we went into the war. He has plenty of money and +spends his time idling about New York, in frequent communication with +at least one navy officer. He selects a home overlooking the river from +which our soldiers are departing for France. You yourself saw him +pursuing K-19—the other K-19—who a few hours afterward was found +murdered.” + +“Things don’t look right,” Jane agreed, yet a few hours later as she +sat opposite the young man at tea, she found herself doubting. It +seemed incredible, impossible, that Frederic Hoff could be a murderer. +Her instinctive sense of justice forced her to admit that it was hard +for her to believe him even a spy. He seemed so cultured, so clean, so +straightforward, so nice. If she had not seen that unforgettable look +of hate on his face that night as she watched him from the window she +could not, she would not have believed evil of him. + +The tremor of nervous excitement in which she met him quickly passed, +and she found herself once more chatting intimately with him and +enjoying it. He talked well on practically all subjects, showing +reserve only when she tried to draw him out about himself. Her previous +experiences with the opposite sex had taught her that most men’s +favorite topic of conversation is themselves, but Mr. Hoff appeared to +be the exception. Adroitly he baffled all her efforts to get him to +discuss his family, his achievements, or his past, even when she sought +to encourage intimacy by telling about her brother who was abroad in +Pershing’s army. + +“You must let me be your big brother while he is away,” her escort had +suggested gallantly. + +“All right, brother,” she had challenged him. “I’ll take you on at +once. I have seats for a matinée to-morrow. I’d much rather go with a +brother than with one of the girls.” + +“I would be delighted,” he answered unsuspectingly, “but unfortunately +I have an engagement that takes me out of town.” + +“We’ll go next week, then—Wednesday.” + +“A week is too long to wait. Let me take you to a matinée on Saturday.” + +Jane hesitated. At times her conscience troubled her not a little. +While satisfied that the importance of her trust wholly justified her +actions, she disliked any deception of her family. + +“Wouldn’t it be better,” she parried, “if you came to call on me some +evening first? You’ve only just met my mother, and I would like you to +know Dad, too.” + +“May I?” he cried with manifest pleasure. “How about to-morrow +evening?” + +“That’s Wednesday,” she answered slowly. That was the day she and Dean +were planning to put in a dictograph. She wondered at herself calmly +carrying on this casual conversation with the man she was planning to +betray. Coloring a little from the very shame of it, she continued, +“How about making it Thursday evening?” + +“Delighted,” cried Hoff, “and about Saturday’s matinée—what haven’t you +seen?” + +Glad for the respite of at least twenty-four hours, Jane, as they +talked, watched his face, his expression, his eyes. Regardless of the +things she believed about him, he impressed her as honest and sincere. +Certainly there was no mistaking the fact that his liking for her and +his delight in her society were wholly genuine. Her heart warned her +that it was his intention to press their new-formed acquaintance into +close intimacy. Was he, she wondered, like herself, pretending +friendship merely to unmask secrets for his government? No, she could +not, she would not believe it. She felt sure that his admiration was +unfeigned. Something told her that quickly his ardor and determination +might lead her into embarrassing circumstances. He might even ask her +to marry him. For a moment she was overcome with timidity and tempted +to stop short on her new career, but there came to her the thought of +the brave Americans in the trenches, of the soldiers at sea, of the +brutal, lurking U-boats, and sternly she put aside all personal +considerations. + +“You spoke of going out of town,” she said when the subject of the +matinée had been disposed of. “Don’t you find train travel rather +disagreeable these days?” + +“Fortunately I’m motoring.” + +“That will be nice, if you don’t have to travel too far.” + +“It is quite a distance for one day, but I am used to it. I make the +trip often.” + +Feeling that at least she had learned something, Jane rose to go. She +knew that both the Hoffs would be out of the way to-morrow. The +inference from his last remark was that they were going to the same +place they had gone on previous Wednesdays. That was something to +report to Mr. Fleck. + +“My car is outside,” she said as they rose. “Can’t I take you home?” + +“Sorry,” said her host, “but I am dining here to-night. Lieutenant +Kramer is to join me.” + +“Remember me to him,” she said as he escorted her to the automobile, +driven by Dean. + +A block away from the hotel she tapped on the glass, and as Dean +brought the car to a stop she climbed into the seat beside him. Only a +week ago she would have criticized any girl who rode beside the +chauffeur. In fact she had spoken disapprovingly of a girl in her own +set who made a habit of doing it, but now she never gave it a thought. +Many things in her life seemed to have assumed new aspects and values +since she had entered on a career of useful activity. In her was +rapidly developing something of her father’s ability and directness. As +she wanted to talk confidentially with Dean, she went the easiest way +about it, entirely regardless of appearances. + +“Apparently you carried it off well,” he commented. + +“I hope so,” she answered, coloring a little. “They’re making their +usual Wednesday motor trip.” + +“He did not tell you their destination?” + +“No, but Lieutenant Kramer is dining with him to-night at the +Biltmore.” + +“Fine. Those things the Chief can take care of. That leaves the way +clear for us to-morrow afternoon.” + +“What excuse will I make for having you come up to the apartment?” + +“You want me to change some pictures. That will account for the wire if +I’m caught.” + +“I hope no one sees you.” + +“Nobody’ll see me but the elevator man, and he’ll think nothing of it.” + +Apparently, too, Dean was right, for the next afternoon he entered the +Strong apartment carrying a suitcase in which was concealed his +apparatus and the necessary wire. + +“Hurry,” cried Jane, who was waiting for him. “The Hoffs’ maid has just +gone up on the roof.” + +“We can safely give her at least a few minutes,” said Dean setting to +work to make a hole through the wall into the apartment adjoining. Just +as he had finished making it and had pushed one end of the wire +through, the telephone bell rang, and Jane in dismay sprang to answer +it. + +“Disguise your voice,” warned Dean. “If it is a caller say there is no +one home.” + +“It was Lieutenant Kramer calling,” said Jane as she returned. + +“Did he recognize your voice?” + +“I don’t think so.” + +“What did he say?” + +“He said to tell Miss Strong that he had called.” + +“Then he didn’t suspect you.” + +“Isn’t there danger, though, that he may come up to the Hoff +apartment?” + +Dean sprang to the window and looked out at the street below. + +“No, there he goes up the street. He evidently did not try to see if +the Hoffs were at home. That’s funny.” + +“Why funny?” + +“It means of course that he, too, knows about those Wednesday trips the +Hoffs make.” + +Cautiously he opened the door into the public hall. There was no one +about. Catlike in swiftness and silence he moved to the Hoff door and +inserted his new-made key. It worked perfectly. + +“Now,” he whispered to Jane, “to the roof—quick. I must not be taken by +surprise. Give me at least ten minutes more—fifteen if you can.” + +Quickly he passed inside, closing the door behind him all but a barely +noticeable crack, as Jane rang for the elevator and bade the operator +take her to the roof. As she emerged there and stood waiting for the +elevator to descend again, an ornamental lattice screened her from the +rest of the roof. Cautiously and curiously she peered between the +slats, trying to see what the Hoff servant was doing at the moment. She +decided that she would not reveal her presence until the woman made +ready to go down-stairs. + +As from behind her screen she scanned the roof she espied old Lena over +on the side next the river bending over a half-filled basket of +clothes, apparently putting into the basket some of the freshly dried +laundry from the lines extending all over the roof. As Jane watched her +the old woman straightened herself up and cast a cautious glance about. +Apparently satisfied that she was alone she whipped out something from +a pocket in her apron and turned in the direction of the river. + +Jane gasped in amazement, a thrill of excitement sweeping over her at +this new discovery. It was plain that the old servant was studying the +transports in the river below through a pair of powerful field glasses. +Curiously Jane observed her, wondering what she was trying to +ascertain, wondering if through the glasses she was able to identify +the battleships and other boats. Old Lena’s next move was still more +puzzling. Hastily dropping her glasses into the basket she began to +hang again on the line some of the clothes. They were handkerchiefs, +Jane noted interestedly, one large red one, and the rest white, some +large, some small, a whole long row of nothing but handkerchiefs. + +All at once it came to Jane what it must mean. The arrangement of the +handkerchiefs must be some sort of a code. She studied the way they +were placed, committing the order to memory. “Red—two large—one +small—one large—one small.” Of course it was a code, a signal to some +one aboard one of the ships. + +The line of handkerchiefs completed old Lena once more took up her +glasses, first looking around as before to see if any one were on the +roof. How Jane wished that she, too, could see the ships from where she +stood. Was some traitor in the navy wigwagging to the old woman? She +was tempted to spring forward and seize her and stop this dastardly +signalling, but she remembered her duty. She was there to see that Dean +was not surprised by old Lena’s return. So long as the woman kept +signalling he was safe. + +Once more the laundress dropped her glasses and began frantically +rearranging the handkerchiefs. Again Jane noted their order—red—two +small—one large—three small—two large. Again the laundress resorted to +the glasses, and at last, apparently satisfied, began taking down the +rest of the laundry and making ready to leave the roof. Trying to act +as if she had just arrived, Jane stepped boldly forward. + +“I wonder,” she said approaching the woman, “if you can tell me where I +can find a good laundress.” + +“_Nicht versteh_” said old Lena, eyeing her suspiciously and hostilely, +and at the same time attempting to pass her with the basket of clothes. + +Deliberately blocking the way, Jane repeated her question, this time in +German, feeling thankful that her language studies at school were not +wholly forgotten and that they had included such practical phrases as +those required to hire and discharge maids and complain about the +quality of their work. + +“I know no one,” the old woman answered her, this time in English. + +Jane breathed fast with excitement. The laundress’ slip of the tongue, +after denying that she understood, was evidence in itself of her +deliberate duplicity. Realizing her mistake, the old woman now sullenly +refused to answer any questions, merely shaking her head and trying to +dodge past and escape. + +To prolong the questioning, Jane felt, would be only to arouse +suspicion, and reluctantly she allowed old Lena to precede her to the +elevator, anticipating her, however, in ringing the bell, pressing the +button four times as Dean had directed. As they descended together she +was almost in a panic. How long had she kept the laundress on the roof? +She really had no idea. She had been so absorbed in her new discovery +she had given no thought to the time. For all she knew she might have +been there only five minutes. Had Dean had time to finish his work? + +Almost frenzied with anxiety, wondering if it were too soon, she moved +forward in the car so as to obstruct old Lena’s view through the door +as it opened. One glance showed her the Hoff door now tightly closed, +and she thought she heard the door of her own apartment just closing. +Suddenly she remembered that she had gone up on the roof without a key. +It would be a pretty pass if Dean were still in the Hoff apartment and +she couldn’t get into her own. + +All in a tremble she pressed the button of her own door, waiting, +however, to see that the laundress was out of the hall. It was Dean who +opened the door, and she all but fainted in his arms as she saw that he +was back in safety. + +“It’s done,” he cried gleefully, as he caught her and drew her within, +closing the door carefully behind her. “I just finished my work as you +came down.” + +Great drops of perspiration still stood on his forehead and he was +breathing rapidly. + +“Why, what’s the matter?” he cried, noticing for the first time Jane’s +perturbation. “Was it too much for you? What happened?” + +“Put this down quick, quick,” gasped Jane, “Red—two large—one small—one +large—one small—and then—red—two small—one large—three small—two +large.” + +Wonderingly he complied, jotting down what she told him in his +notebook, and turning to ask her what it meant, discovered that she had +fainted. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII +THE LISTENING EAR + + +“I don’t know what is the matter with Jane,” sighed Mrs. Strong a few +days after the employment of the new chauffeur. + +“She’s not ill, is she?” responded her husband. “I never saw her +looking more fit.” + +“She looks all right,” said her mother. “It is the peculiar way she is +acting that bothers me. She spends hours and hours moping in her room, +and then there are times when she takes notions of going out and is +positively insistent that she must have the car.” + +“Maybe she’s in love,” suggested Mr. Strong, resorting to the common +masculine suspicion. + +“With whom?” retorted his wife indignantly. “I don’t believe there is +an eligible man under forty in all New York. None of the men are +thinking about marriage these days. They all want to go to France, even +the married ones. I believe you’d go yourself if you were a few years +younger.” + +“I certainly would,” announced her husband enthusiastically. + +“Jane tells me she is writing a novel,” Mrs. Strong continued, “and +that’s why she stays in her room so much. I hope she won’t turn out to +be literary.” + +“Don’t worry,” advised Mr. Strong. “With all the men off to war you’ll +find young women doing all kinds of funny things to work off their +energy. If a girl can’t be husband-hunting, she’s got to be doing +something to keep busy. There are worse things than trying to write +novels. Jane is all right. Let her alone.” + +So, even though her mother’s suspicions had been aroused, the girl in +the next few days managed to spend many hours with her ears glued to +the receiver of the dictograph without being discovered. In the Hoffs’ +apartment Dean had succeeded in locating it over the dining-room table, +concealed in the chandelier, and in Jane’s room the other end rested in +the back of a dresser drawer that she always carefully locked when +absent. + +The novelty of listening for bits of her neighbors’ conversation +quickly wore off. To sit almost motionless for hours listening, +listening intently for every sound, hearing occasional words spoken +either in too low tones or too far distant to make them understandable, +to record bits of conversation that sounded harmless, yet might have +some sinister meaning, became a most laborious task. Yet persistently +Jane stuck at it. The greater knowledge she gained of the plottings of +the German agents, the more important and vital she realized it was for +every clue to be diligently followed in the hope that the trail might +at last reach the master-spy, whose manifold activities were menacing +America. + +In general she was disappointed with the results of her listening. To +be sure they had furnished indisputable evidence of something they +already had ascertained—that old Hoff, despite being a naturalized +American, still was a devoted adherent of the ruler of Germany. Nightly +as he and his nephew sat down to dinner she could hear his gruff, +unpleasant voice ceremoniously proposing always the same toast: + +“Der Kaiser!” + +Even when the younger Hoff was dining out, as he sometimes did, Jane +could hear the old man giving the toast, presumably with only the old +servant for an auditor. That the woman, too, was a spy, as well as +servant, Jane had known since the day on the roof, but so far neither +she nor Dean had been able to make anything out of her handkerchief +code, though both were sure the messages related to the sailings of +transports. + +Only once had she heard anything that she deemed really important. One +evening, as uncle and nephew dined, there had been an acrimonious +dispute. + +“Have you it yet?” the uncle had asked in German. + +“Not yet,” Frederic had answered. + +His seemingly simple reply for some reason appeared to have stirred the +elder man’s wrath. He broke into a volley of curses and epithets, +reproaching his nephew for his delay. In the rapid medley of oaths and +expostulations Jane could distinguish only occasional +words—“afraid”—“haste”—”all-highest importance”—“American swine.” The +younger Hoff had appeared to exercise marvelous self-control. + +“There is yet time,” he answered calmly. + +“Donnerwetter,” the old man had exclaimed. “There is yet time, you +say—and Emil the wonder-worker almost ready has. It must be done at +once.” + +The outburst over, old Hoff had subsided into inarticulate mutterings, +evidently busy with his food, leaving Jane to wonder futilely who Emil +might be, what he meant by the “wonder-worker,” and what particular +task had been assigned to the nephew that must be performed +immediately. She had hastened to report this conversation in detail to +Chief Fleck, but if he understood what it was about he had taken +neither Jane nor Thomas Dean into his confidence. + +Other things, too, Jane had learned and reported, which she knew the +chief appreciated even though he was sparing in his thanks and +compliments. She had learned through her almost constant listening that +Lieutenant Kramer was a regular visitor, coming to the Hoff apartment +or seeing Frederic Hoff somewhere every other day. Unfortunately he was +always conducted into one of the inner rooms, so that no more of the +conversation than the ordinary greetings and farewells ever reached +Jane’s ears. The mere fact of his coming so regularly to the Hoffs +convicted him of treachery, in Jane’s mind. What proper business could +an American naval officer have in the home of two German agents? The +excuse that Frederic Hoff was a delightful and entertaining friend was +entirely too flimsy and unsatisfactory. + +Nothing that she had overheard—and within her heart she felt glad that +it was so—in any way as yet incriminated young Hoff. When she dared to +think about it, she found herself almost believing, certainly at least +wishing, that the nephew was not involved in his uncle’s activities. +Most of his time, in fact, was spent out of the apartment. He +frequently went out early in the morning, not returning until the early +hours of the next morning. The old man, on the contrary, always stayed +at home until eleven o’clock. At that hour his telephone would ring. +The telephone was located near the dining room, so Jane could easily +hear his conversations. Invariably some brief message was given to him, +a name, which he repeated aloud as if for verification. + +As Jane overheard them she had set them down: + +Thursday—“Jones.” +Friday—“Simpson.” +Saturday—“Marks.” +Sunday—“Heilwitz.” +Monday—“Lilienthal.” +Tuesday—“Wheeler.” + + +As she sat by the hour listening Jane kept pondering over these names. +What could they mean? Were they, too, a code of some sort? Always, as +soon as this word had come to him, old Hoff went out. Could they be, +she wondered, passwords by which he gained access somewhere to +government buildings or places where munitions were being made or +shipped? + +Meanwhile her acquaintance with Frederic Hoff had been progressing +rapidly. As she had suggested he had called on her and had been +presented to her father, and on the next Saturday they had gone to a +matinée together. She had been eager to see what her father thought of +him, for Mr. Strong, she knew, was regarded as a shrewd judge of men. + +“What does that young Hoff do who was here last night?” her father had +asked at the breakfast table. + +“He’s in the importing business with his uncle, I think,” she had +answered. + +“Where’d you meet him?” + +“He lives in the apartment next door. Lieutenant Kramer introduced +him.” + +“He’s German, isn’t he?” + +“Oh, no,” said Jane, almost unconsciously rallying to defend him, “he +was born in this country.” + +“Well, it’s a German name.” + +“Don’t you like him?” + +“He talks well,” her father said, “and seems to be well-bred.” + +It was with reluctance, too, that Jane admitted to herself that the +better acquainted she became with Frederic Hoff the more fascinating +she found his society. She was always expecting that by some word or +action he would reveal to her his true character. At the matinée she +had waited anxiously to see what he would do when the orchestra played +the national anthem. To her amazement he was on his feet almost among +the first and remained standing in an attitude of the utmost respect +until the last bar was completed. If he were only pretending the rôle +of a good American, he certainly was a wonderful actor. As her +admiration for him increased and her interest in him grew she found +that almost her only antidote was to try to keep thinking of his face +as she had seen it the night that K-19—the other K-19—had been so +mysteriously murdered. She kept wondering if Chief Fleck had made any +further discoveries about the murder and resolved to ask him about it +at the first opportunity. She therefore was delighted when on Tuesday, +as she made her regular report by telephone, he asked if she could come +to his office that afternoon with Dean to discuss some matters of +importance. They found Carter already with the chief when they arrived. + +“Thanks to your work, Miss Strong, and to Dean’s dictograph,” said the +chief, “we have made considerable progress. We have learned a lot more +about the cipher messages.” + +“You have learned it through me,” cried Jane in amazement. + +“Yes,” said the chief, smiling, “from that list of names you reported.” + +“What were they, a cipher, a code?” questioned the girl breathlessly. + +“No, nothing like that. They are merely the names of various innocent +and unsuspecting booksellers in various parts of the city.” + +“How did you discover that?” + +“In the simplest and easiest way possible. I listed all the names you +reported and studied them carefully, trying to find their common +denominator. They were not in the same neighborhood, so it was not +locality. They were not all German, so it was not racial. I looked them +up in the telephone directory, checking up the numbers of the +telephones of the Jones, the Simpsons, but that gave no clue. Then, as +I looked through the telephone lists, I discovered that there was a +bookstore kept by a man of each name. Then I understood. It is a simple +plan for throwing off shadowers.” + +“You mean that Mr. Hoff goes to a different bookstore each day to leave +a code message?” + +“That’s it. The spy who gets the messages each morning calls him up by +’phone, mentioning just the one word. From that Mr. Hoff knows just +where to go, concealing the message in a book before agreed upon.” + +“The fifth book,” interrupted Dean. + +“Not always,” explained Fleck. “It depends on whether there are five +letters in the name telephoned. I have located and copied several more +of the messages.” + +“But who gets the messages he leaves? Who takes them away from the +bookshops?” asked Jane, mindful of her own failure in that respect. + +“It’s a girl, or rather two girls together, though possibly only one of +them is in the plot. Very likely the other may not know what her +companion is doing.” + +“To whom does this girl take them?” + +“That is still a mystery,” said the chief. “We have ascertained who the +girl is, where she lives. Her actions have been watched and recorded +for every hour in the twenty-four for the last three days, and yet we +don’t know what she does with these messages. Carter has a theory—tell +us about it, Carter.” + +“In accordance with instructions,” began Carter, as if he was making +out a report, “I had operatives K-24 and K-11 shadow the party +suspected. On two different occasions they followed her to a bookstore +and back home again. She was accompanied on one occasion by her younger +sister. Each time she went directly home and stopped there, neither she +nor her sister coming out again, and no person visiting the apartment, +but—” + +“Here’s the interesting part,” interrupted Fleck. + +“On both occasions within a couple of blocks of the bookstore she +passed a man with a dachshund. She did not speak to the man, but each +time she stopped to pet the dog.” + +“Was it the same man both times?” asked Dean. + +“Apparently not,” replied Carter, “but it may have been the same dog. +Dachshunds all look alike.” + +“Go on,” said the chief. + +“Now my theory is that that girl was instructed to walk north until she +met the man with the dog. I’ll bet anything that code message went +under the dog’s collar. The next time she gets a message I’m going to +get that dog.” + +“It seems preposterous,” scoffed Dean. + +“Rather it shows,” said Fleck, “that these spies all suspect they are +being watched, and that they resort to the most extraordinary methods +of communication to throw off shadowers. They have used dachshunds +before. There’s a New England munition plant to which they used to send +a messenger each week to learn how their plans for strikes and +destruction were progressing. They put a different man on the job each +time to avoid stirring up suspicion. At the station there would always +be two children playing with a dachshund. The spy would simply follow +them as if casually, and they would lead him to a rendezvous with the +local plotters. Now, Miss Strong,” he said, turning to Jane, “I brought +you down here for two reasons. First, to give you an inkling of how +important your task is, and second, to ask you to undertake still +another task for us. Are you still willing to help?” + +“More than ever,” said the girl firmly. + +“The one disappointment is that we are getting no evidence whatever to +involve or incriminate young Hoff. To-morrow, while he and his uncle +are away on their usual auto trip, I am going to have the apartment +thoroughly searched.” + +Jane’s face blanched. She recalled what a strain it had been on her +nerves the day she watched on the roof while Dean installed the +dictograph. She felt hardly equal to the task of ransacking desks and +drawers. + +“There will be no one at home but the old servant. She can be easily +disposed of. It is imperative that the search be made at once. There is +evidence that what they are planning—evidently some big coup—is nearing +the time for its execution. We must find it out in order to thwart +them. I have got to know what old Hoff meant by the ‘wonder-worker!’ He +said that it was nearly ready. I suspect that it is some new engine of +destruction. We must prevent any disaster to transports or munition +factories, if that’s what they have in mind.” + +“You think it’s a bomb plot?” asked Jane. + +“I don’t know what it is. These empire-mad fools stop at nothing. +Nothing is sacred to them, women, children, property. With fanatical +energy and ability they commit murders, resort to arson, use poisons, +foment strikes, wreck buildings, blow up ships, do anything, attempt +anything to serve the Kaiser. Karl Boy-ed spent three millions here in +America in two months, and Von Papen a million more. What for? Ten +thousand dollars to one man to start a bomb factory, twenty-five +thousand dollars to another to blow up a tunnel. Millions on millions +for German propaganda was raised right here, and it is far from all +spent yet. We’ve got to find out what the wonder-worker is and destroy +it before it destroys—God knows what.” + +“Very well,” said Jane with quiet determination, “I’ll search their +apartment.” + +“No, not that,” said the chief, “I’ll send some fake inspectors to test +the electric wiring, and they’ll do the searching. I do not know for +sure that the Hoffs suspect you of watching them, but I’m taking no +chances. It will be just as well for you and Dean to be out of the way +to-morrow all day, so that you will have an alibi. Germany’s secret +agents are suspicious of everybody. They do not even trust their own +people. What I want you and Dean to do is to try to follow the Hoffs +and see where they go. I don’t want to use the same persons twice to +trail them as they may get suspicious.” + +“I can easily do that,” said Jane, feeling relieved. “I’ll tell Mother +I want our car for all day.” + +“No, don’t use your own car. They might recognize it. I’ll provide +another one. They gave two of my men the slip last week somewhere the +other side of Tarrytown. Let’s hope they are not so successful this +time.” + +“But won’t they recognize me?” + +“Not if you disguise yourself with goggles and a dust coat. Dean can +make up, too. He had practice enough at college, eh, Dean?” + +Jane turned to look interestedly at Dean, who had the grace to color +up. She was right then. He was a college man, working in the secret +service not for the sake of the job but for the sake of his country. + +“Of course I can disguise myself too,” she said enthusiastically, a new +zest in her work asserting itself, now that she knew her principal +co-operator was probably in the same social stratum as herself. + +“You can rely on us, Chief,” said Dean, as they left the office +together. “We’ll run them down.” + +As they emerged into Broadway and turned north to reach the subway at +Fulton Street, Dean, with a warning “sst,” suddenly caught Jane’s arm +and drew her to a shop window, where he appeared to be pointing out +some goods displayed there. As he did so he whispered: + +“Don’t say a word and don’t turn around, but watch the people passing, +in this mirror here—quick, now, look.” + +Jane, as she was bidden, glanced, at first curiously and then in +recognition and amazement, at a tall figure reflected in the mirror, as +he passed close behind her. It was a man in uniform. Regardless of +Dean’s warning she turned abruptly to stare uncertainly at the military +back now a few paces away. + +“Did you recognize him?” cried Dean. + +“It—it looked like Frederic Hoff,” faltered the girl. + +“It was Frederic Hoff,” corrected her companion, “Frederic Hoff in the +uniform of a British officer, a British cavalry captain!” + + + + +CHAPTER IX +THE PURSUIT + + +Masked by an enormous pair of motor goggles and further shielded from +recognition by a cap drawn down almost over his nose, Thomas Dean in a +basket-rigged motorcycle impatiently sat awaiting the arrival of Jane +Strong at a corner they had agreed upon the evening before. He had been +particularly insistent that Jane should be on hand at a quarter before +eight. He had learned by judicious inquiries that always on +Wednesdays—at least on the Wednesdays previous—the Hoffs had started +off on their mysterious trips at eight sharp. His intention was to get +away ahead of them and pick them up somewhere outside the city limits. + +Jane had promised that she would be on hand promptly. Once more he +looked impatiently at his watch. It lacked just half a minute of the +quarter, but there was no sign of his fellow operative. The only person +visible in the block was a boy strolling carelessly in his direction. +With a muttered exclamation of annoyance Dean restored his watch to his +pocket, debating with himself how long he ought to wait and whether or +not he had better wait if she did not appear soon. Very possibly, he +realized, something entirely unforeseen might have detained her or have +prevented her coming. Perhaps her family had doubted her story that she +was going off on an all-day motor trip with a friend? Maybe their +suspicions had been aroused by his having reported sick? He had almost +decided to go on alone when he observed that the boy he had seen +approaching was standing beside the motorcycle. + +“Good morning, Thomas,” said the boy, a little doubtfully, as if not +quite sure that it was he. + +Dean gasped in astonishment. The boy’s voice was the voice of Jane. +Laughing merrily at his amazement and discomfiture, she climbed into +the seat beside him, asking: + +“How do you like my disguise?” + +“It’s great,” he cried. “You fooled me completely, and I was expecting +you.” + +“When Chief Fleck said I ought to disguise myself for fear that the +Hoffs already suspected me, I happened to remember these clothes. I had +them once for a play we gave in school.” + +“But you don’t even walk like a girl.” + +Jane laughed again. + +“I practised that walk for days and days. When I first put on this suit +my brother hooted at the way I walked. He said no girl ever could learn +to walk like a boy. I made up my mind I’d show him.” + +“But your hair,” protested Dean, almost anxiously. Even if he was just +now assuming the humble rôle of chauffeur he still was an ardent +admirer of such hair as Jane’s, long, black and luxurious. + +“Tucked up under my cap,” laughed the girl, “and for fear it might +tumble down, I brought this along. It’s what the sailor boys call a +‘beanie,’ isn’t it?” + +As she spoke she adjusted over her head a visorlike woolen cap that +left only her face showing. + +“But your mother—didn’t she wonder about your wearing those clothes?” + +“She was in bed when I left. All she caught was just a glimpse of me in +Dad’s dust coat, and that came to my ankles. I wore it until I was a +block away from the house. Will I do?” + +“You can’t change your eyes,” said Dean boldly, that is boldly for a +chauffeur, but he knew that Jane knew he wasn’t a chauffeur except by +choice, so that made it all right. + +“I couldn’t well leave them behind. I understood that I was to have a +lot of use for my eyes to-day.” + +“Yes, indeed, you very likely will.” + +“Do you know I hardly recognized you at first and was almost afraid to +speak? I had expected to find you in a car. What was the idea of the +motorcycle?” + +“It was Chief Fleck’s suggestion. The Hoffs will be motoring. People in +a car seldom pay any attention to motorcyclists. If we were to follow +them in a motor they’d surely notice it. Last week they managed to +dodge the people the Chief assigned to trail them. Maybe as two dusty +motorcyclists we’ll have better luck.” + +“I hope so. Where do you intend waiting to pick them up?” + +“Getty Square in Yonkers is the best place. Everybody going north goes +that way. I can be tinkering with the machine while you keep watch for +them. They will not be apt to suspect a pair of Yonkers motorcyclists. +There’s no danger of missing them.” + +“Did you tell the Chief about seeing Mr. Hoff in that uniform?” + +“Of course. He did not seem even surprised. Some one had reported to +him already that there was a German going about in British uniform.” + +“What had he heard? What was the man doing?” questioned Jane anxiously. +Even though she believed Frederic Hoff an alien enemy, even though she +was all but sure that he was a murderer, she kept finding herself +always hoping for something in his favor. He seemed far too nice and +entertaining to be engaged in any nefarious, underhanded, despicable +machinations. Yet she had seen him masquerading as a British officer. +She could not doubt the evidence of her own eyes. + +“What happened was this,” continued Dean. “A woman—one of the society +lot—was driving down Park Avenue day before yesterday morning in her +motor. It had been raining, and the streets were muddy. At one of the +crossings a British officer stopped to let the car pass. One of the +wheels hit a rut, and his uniform was all splashed with mud. He burst +into a string of curses—_German_ curses.” + +“He cursed in German?” cried Jane. + +“Sure,” said Dean. “On the impulse of the moment he forgot his rôle and +revealed his true self—an arrogant Prussian officer.” + +“What did the woman do?” + +“Reported him to the first policeman she met, but by that time he had +vanished, of course.” + +“What did Chief Fleck think about it?” + +“He didn’t seem to take the story seriously.” + +“Do you suppose it could have been Mr. Hoff?” + +“It must have been he, or one of his gang, at any rate. I don’t see why +the Chief does not order his arrest at once. He is far too dangerous to +be at large.” + +“There’s no real evidence against him yet,” protested Jane, “not +against the young man, at least.” + +“Didn’t we both see him in British uniform?” + +“Yes,” admitted the girl. + +“Well, that’s proof, isn’t it? A man with a German name in British +uniform in wartime can’t be up to any good.” + +“Still we have no actual evidence against him. We don’t know what he +was doing.” + +“I’d arrest him then for murder and get the evidence that he is a spy +afterward. It would be easy to fasten the murder of K-19 on him. +There’s no doubt that he did that.” + +“Has a witness been found?” asked Jane with a quick catch of the +breath. Somehow she never had been able to persuade herself that the +man next door, whatever else he might be, had really committed that +brutal murder. + +“No, there’s no actual witness, but it could be proved by +circumstantial evidence. K-19, the man whose work you took up, had +instructions to shadow young Hoff to his home. At two in the morning he +relieved another operative. At three you yourself saw him shadowing +Hoff.” + +“I saw two men on the sidewalk,” corrected Jane. “One of them was +Frederic Hoff. I did not see the other distinctly enough to identify +him. I saw no murder. I merely saw the two of them run around the +corner.” + +“Look here,” said Dean sharply, not wholly succeeding in suppressing a +note of jealousy in his tones, “I believe you are trying to shield +Frederic Hoff. What is he to you? Has he won you over to his side?” + +“You’ve no right to say such things to me,” cried Jane, nevertheless +coloring furiously. “I’ve seen the man only three or four times. I am +working just as hard as you are to prove that he is a German spy, if he +is one. I am only trying to be fair. I know nothing that convicts him +of murder. Any testimony I could give would not prove a single thing.” + +“Certainly not, if that’s the way you feel about it,” snapped Dean. + +After that they rode along together in silence, each busy with thoughts +of their own. Dean was cursing himself for having let his enthusiasm to +be of service to his government lead him into such circumstances. He +felt that his chauffeur’s position handicapped him in his relations +with Jane, to whom he had been strongly attracted from the beginning. +The son of a distinguished American diplomat, he had been educated for +the most part in Europe. Friends of his father, when he had offered his +services to the government, had convinced him that his knowledge of +German and French would make him most useful in the secret service. +Reluctantly he had consented to take up the work, and as he had gone +further and further into it and had realized the vast machinery for +surreptitious observation and dangerous activity that the German agents +had secretly planted in the United States, he had become fascinated +with his occupation—that is, until he met Jane Strong. + +His association with her under present circumstances was fast becoming +unbearable. Even though he was aware that she knew he was no ordinary +chauffeur, he loathed the necessity of having to wear his mask in the +presence of her family. He wanted to be free to come to see her, to +send her flowers and to go about with her. For him to take any +advantage of their present intimate relations to court her seemed to +him little short of a betrayal of his government, yet at times it was +all he could do to keep from telling her that he adored her. Love’s +sharp instincts, too, had made him realize that Jane was already +beginning to be attracted by the handsome young German whom they were +seeking to entrap, and the knowledge of this fact filled him with +helpless rage and jealousy. + +Jane, too, angered and insulted at first by Dean’s outburst, had been +endeavoring to analyze her own conduct. Candor reluctantly compelled +her to admit that each time she met Frederic Hoff she had found herself +coming more and more under his spell. He had a wonderful personality, +talked entertainingly and ever exhibited an innate gallantry toward +women in general, and herself in particular, which Jane had found +delightfully interesting. Though she had undertaken wholeheartedly to +try to get evidence against him, she was forced to admit to herself now +that she was secretly delighted that there had been nothing damaging +found as yet, so far as he was concerned, beyond the one fact that he +had been in British uniform. + +In vain she marshalled the circumstances about him, trying to make +herself hate him. He was a German, she told herself. He was an enemy of +her country. He lived with a man who had been proved to be a spy. He +surreptitiously associated with American naval officers. The dictograph +told her that nightly his uncle and he in the seclusion of their home +toasted America’s arch enemy, the German Kaiser. More than likely, too, +her reason told her, he was a murderer. She ought to hate, to loathe, +to despise him, and yet she didn’t. She liked him. Whenever he +approached she could feel her heart beating faster. She looked forward +after each meeting with him to the time when she would see him again. +What, she wondered, could be the matter with her? Assuredly she was a +good patriotic American girl. Why couldn’t she hate Frederic Hoff as +she knew he ought to be hated? + +She was still puzzling over her unruly heart when they reached Getty +Square, and Dean brought the motorcycle to a stop in one of the side +streets overlooking Broadway. Dismounting, he looked at his watch and +made a pretense of tinkering with the engine, while Jane kept a sharp +lookout on the main thoroughfare, by which they expected the Hoffs to +approach. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, more than half an hour they +waited, anxiously scanning each car as it passed. + +“I can’t understand it,” said Dean. “They should have been here at +least twenty minutes ago. I am going to ’phone Carter. He will know +what time they started.” + +He had hardly entered an adjacent shop before Jane, still keeping +watch, saw the Hoffs’ car flash by, going rapidly north. Quickly she +sprang out and ran into the store. Dean saw her coming and left the +telephone booth, his finger on his lips in a warning gesture. + +“Don’t bother to ’phone,” cried the girl, misunderstanding his +meaning—and thinking only that he was trying to prevent her naming the +Hoffs. “Come, let’s get started.” + +Without speaking he hurried from the store and got the motorcycle under +way. + +“Have they passed?” he whispered then. + +“Just a moment ago.” + +Silently he gathered up speed, racing in the direction the Hoffs’ car +had gone, not addressing her again until perhaps two miles from Getty +Square they caught up with it close enough to identify the occupants, +whereupon he slowed down and followed at a more discreet interval. + +“Be careful about speaking to me when there’s any one about,” he warned +Jane, almost crossly. “Those clothes make you look like a boy, and your +walk is all right, but your voice gives you away. Did you see that +clerk in the store look at you when you spoke to me? I tried to warn +you to say nothing.” + +“I’ll be careful hereafter,” said Jane humbly, still depressed by her +recent estimate of herself. “I forgot about my voice.” + +Mile after mile they kept up the pursuit without further exchange of +conversation. As they passed through various towns along the road Dean +purposely lagged behind for fear of attracting attention, but always on +the outskirts he raced until he caught up close enough again to the car +to identify it, then let his motorcycle lag back again. Thus far the +Hoffs had given no indication of any intention to leave the main road. + +As the cyclists, far behind, came down a long winding hill on which +they had managed to catch occasional glimpses of their quarry, Dean, +with a muttered exclamation, put on a sudden burst of speed. At a rise +in the road he had seen the Hoffs’ car swing sharply to the left. +Furiously he negotiated the rest of the hill, arriving at the base just +in time to see them boarding a little ferry the other side of the +railroad tracks. While he and Jane were still five hundred yards away +the ferryboat, with a warning toot, slipped slowly out into the Hudson. + +In blank despair they turned to face each other. The situation seemed +hopeless. They dared not shout or try to detain the boat. That surely +would betray to the Hoffs that they were being followed. Despondently +Dean clambered off the motorcycle and crossed to read a placard on the +ferryhouse. + +“There’s not another boat for half an hour,” he said when he returned. +“They have gained that much on us.” + +“Perhaps we can pick up their trail on the other side of the river,” +suggested Jane. “There are not nearly so many cars passing as there +would be in the city.” + +“We can only try,” said Dean gloomily. + +“At least we know where to pick up their trail the next time.” + +“Damn them,” cried Dean, “I believe they suspect that they may be +followed and time their arrival here so as to be the last aboard the +ferryboat. That shuts off pursuit effectually. They make this trip +every week. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have not fixed it with the +ferry people to pull out as soon as they arrive. A two-dollar bill +might do the trick. I’d give five thousand right now if we were on the +other side of the river. It’s the first time—the only time I’ve ever +failed the Chief.” + +“Never mind,” said Jane consolingly, “why can’t we be waiting for them +at the other side next week when they come up here? They’re not apt to +suspect motorcyclists they meet up here with having followed them.” + +“Perhaps next week will be too late.” + +“I wonder where they are headed for,” said the girl, looking across at +the rapidly receding boat. “Why, look! What are those buildings over +there?” + +“That’s West Point,” Dean exclaimed, noting for the first time where +they were. + +“West Point!” she echoed in amazement. + +What mission could the Hoffs have that would take them to the United +States Government military school was the question that perplexed them +both. Could it be that the web of treachery and destruction the +Kaiser’s busy agents were weaving had its deadly strands fastened even +here—at West Point? + + + + +CHAPTER X +CARTER’S DISCOVERY + + +“It’s the young man I’m after,” said Chief Fleck. “We have the goods on +old Hoff, but we have nothing incriminating against Frederic yet. The +very fact that he holds aloof from his uncle’s activities makes me +think he is engaged in more important work. He’s just the type the +Germans would select as a director.” + +“That’s right,” said Carter despondently. “There’s nothing except the +fact that Dean and the girl think they saw him in British uniform. Why +didn’t they follow and make sure?” + +“They tried to,” said the chief, “but he gave them the slip. I’m +inclined to believe they were mistaken. More than likely it was a +chance resemblance. Lots of Britishers of the Anglo-Saxon strain look +much like Germans, and a uniform makes a big difference in a man’s +appearance. I’m afraid there’s nothing in that.” + +“But both saw the man—Dean and Miss Strong,” protested Carter. + +“The trouble is,” observed Fleck, “that Dean is getting infatuated with +the girl. A young man in love is not a keen observer. Anything she +thinks she has seen he’ll be ready to swear to. I hope the girl keeps +her head. Lovers don’t make good detectives.” + +“I have watched them together,” said Carter. “I’ll admit he’s struck on +her, but I don’t think she cares a rap for him. She’s too keenly +interested in Frederic Hoff.” + +“What do you mean by that?” asked the chief sharply. + +“You can depend on her all right. She’s patriotic through and through. +She’s the kind that would do her duty, no matter what it cost her. All +I meant is that Hoff’s the type that interests women. He’s got a way +about him. The fact that he’s a spy, in peril most of the time, gives +him a sort of halo. I never knew a daring young criminal yet that +didn’t have some woman, and often several of them, ready to go the +limit for him. All the same, I’m sure we can trust Miss Strong.” + +“We’ve got to,” growled Fleck, “for the present at any rate. Is +everything fixed for the search this afternoon? What have you done to +get the superintendent out of the way? He’s not to be trusted. His name +is Hauser.” + +“I’ve got him fixed. Jimmy Golden, my nephew, who has helped us in a +couple of cases, is a lawyer. He has telephoned to Hauser to come to +his office this afternoon.” + +“Suppose he doesn’t go?” + +“He’ll go all right. Jimmy ’phoned him that it was about a legacy. +That’s sure bait. Jimmy will make Hauser wait an hour, then keep him +talking half an hour longer. That will give us plenty of time.” + +“Then there’s the woman—the servant, Lena Kraus.” + +“She goes to the roof every Wednesday while the Hoffs are away to +signal. Other days they apparently do the signalling themselves in some +way we haven’t caught on to yet. She always goes up about three o’clock +and—” + +“Suppose she comes down unexpectedly and catches you? We can’t have +that happen. That would put them on their guard.” + +“She won’t surprise us. I’ve got a trick up my sleeve for preventing +that.” + +“Go to it, then,” said the chief, and Carter went on his way rejoicing. + +Ever since he had been informed that the search of the Hoffs’ apartment +was to be intrusted to him Carter had been in a state of exuberant +delight. He fairly revelled in jobs that required a disguise and he +welcomed the opportunity it gave him and his assistants to don the +uniform of employees of the electric light company. He even made a +point of arriving that afternoon at the apartment house in the +company’s repair wagon, the vehicle having been procured through +Fleck’s assistance. + +“There’s a dangerous short circuit somewhere in the house,” he +announced to the superintendent’s wife. + +“My husband isn’t here,” she answered unsuspectingly. “Do you know +where the switch-boards are?” + +“We can find them,” said Carter. “We’ll start at the top floor and work +down.” + +Always thorough in his methods of camouflage he actually did go through +several apartments, making a pretense of inspecting switch-boards and +wiring, all the while keeping watch for the time when old Lena went to +the roof. The moment she had entered the elevator to ascend with her +basket of linen, Carter and his aides were at the Hoff door. Equipped +with the key Dean had manufactured they had no difficulty in entering. + +“Bob,” said Carter to one of his men, “we haven’t much time, and +there’s a lot to be done. You take the servant’s room and the kitchen, +and you, Williams, take the old man’s quarters. I’ll take care of the +young man’s bedroom, and we’ll tackle the living room and dining room +later.” + +Thoroughly experienced in this sort of work all three of them set at +once to their tasks. Carter, standing for a moment in the doorway, +surveyed Frederic Hoff’s quarters, taking in all the details of the +furnishings. Both the sitting room and the bedroom adjoining were +equipped in military simplicity, with hardly an extra article of +furniture or adornment, chairs, tables, everything of the plainest +sort. Moving first into the bedroom, Carter quickly investigated +pillows and mattress, but in neither place did he find what he sought, +evidence of a secret hiding place. He rummaged for a while through the +drawers of two tables, carefully restoring the contents, but +discovering nothing that aroused his suspicions. The books lying about +on the tables and on shelves he examined one by one, noting their +titles, examining their bindings for hidden pockets, holding them up by +their backs and shaking the leaves. There was nothing there. Lifting +the rugs and moving the furniture about he made a careful survey of the +flooring, seeking to find some panel that might conceal a hiding place. +Once or twice in corners he went so far as to make soundings but +apparently the whole floor was intact. His search in the bath room was +equally profitless, and at last he turned to the clothes press. As he +opened the door an exclamation of amazement burst from his lips. + +There, concealed behind some other suits, was the complete outfit of a +British cavalry captain. + +“That’s one on the Chief,” he said to himself. “It must have been Hoff +that Dean and Miss Strong saw. I wonder where he got it?” + +With a grim smile of satisfaction he devoted himself to going carefully +through all the pockets and over all the seams of the clothing in the +closet. He even felt into the toe of the shoes and examined the soles. +There was nothing to be found anywhere, but he felt satisfied. The +uniform in itself was to his mind damning proof of the young man’s +occupation. + +No explanation that could be given by a young man of German name, even +though he was American-born, or had an American birth certificate, +could possibly account for his having a British uniform. It was prima +facie evidence that Frederic Hoff was a spy. What puzzled Carter most +was how Hoff managed to smuggle the uniform in and out of the apartment +without being observed. For more than two weeks now every parcel that +had arrived at the house of the Hoffs had been searched before it was +delivered. The house had been constantly under the strictest +surveillance. It was out of the question for him to have worn the +uniform in or out as it could not be easily concealed under other +clothing. + +“There’s somebody else in this place in league with the Hoffs,” he +muttered to himself. “I wonder who it can be.” + +He looked at his watch. The old servant had been out now nearly half an +hour. She was likely to return at any moment. He must work quickly. +Swiftly he went through the dresser drawers but without satisfactory +result. There was no time for him to do more. He hastened into the +living room and summoned his aides. + +“Find anything, Bob?” he asked. + +“Not a thing.” + +“Beat it up to the roof,” he directed. “Have you those field glasses +with you?” + +“Sure,” replied the operative, “and the handkerchiefs, too.” + +“All right. Get up there before she starts down. Begin putting up +handkerchiefs and appear to be watching the river. That will mix her up +so she will not know what to do. She will not dare to leave the roof +while you are there. When we’re through I’ll send the elevator man up +for you with the message that we have found the short circuit.” + +He turned to the other operative. + +“Find anything, Williams?” + +“Only this.” + +Carter’s face brightened as his assistant held out to him two copies of +an afternoon newspaper. In each of them a square was missing where +something had been cut out. + +“I found them in the waste-paper basket by the old man’s desk,” the man +explained, “and there was some ashes there—ashes of paper—as if he had +burned up something. Maybe it was what he cut out of those papers. I +could not tell.” + +“We’ve got to get copies of those papers at once and see what it was. +Come on, I’m going to take them to the Chief. We can get the papers on +the way down.” + +Calling the other operative from the roof, before he even had had time +to attract the attention of Lena Kraus by his activities, they hastened +back to the office, where Fleck and Carter together scanned the two +papers from which the clippings had been taken. + +“Why,” said Carter disappointedly, “it is just a couple of +advertisements he cut out—advertisements for a tooth paste. There’s +nothing in that.” + +“Don’t be too sure,” warned Fleck. “If a man cuts out one tooth-paste +advertisement, the natural presumption would be that he wished to +remind himself to buy some. When he cuts out two, he must have some +special interest in that particular tooth paste. We’ll have to find out +what his interest is.” + +“Maybe he owns it,” suggested Carter. + +“Perhaps,” said Fleck, as he began studying the advertisements, “but it +would not surprise me if these advertisements contained some sort of +code messages.” + +“Messages in advertisements,” exclaimed Carter incredulously. + +“Why not? The Germans have hundreds of spies at work here in this city +and all over the country. What would be an easier method of +communicating orders to them than by code messages concealed in +advertising. They have done it before. When the German armies got into +France they found their way placarded in advance with much useful +information in harmless looking posters advertising a certain brand of +chocolate. I’d be willing to bet that every one of these advertisements +carries a code message. I’ve noticed that these advertisements, all +peculiarly worded, have been running for some time. I never thought of +hooking them up with German propaganda, but, see, it is a German firm +that inserts them.” + +Carefully he cut out the two advertisements and laid them side by side +on his desk. Turning to Carter he said: + +“Go at once to see Mr. Sprague, the publisher of this paper. Get him to +give you a copy of each paper that has contained an advertisement of +this sort in the last six months. Find out what agency places the +advertising. Tell him I want to know. He’ll understand. We have worked +together before.” + +Alone in his office, Fleck bent with wrinkled brow over the first of +the two advertisements, which read: + +REMEMBER + + +Please, that our new paste, DENTO, +will stop decay of your teeth. Sound +teeth are passports to good health and +comfort. Now, no business man can +risk ill health. It is closely allied with +failure. The teeth if not watched are +quickly gone. + + +USE DENTO + + +A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the +teeth, prepared and sold only by the +Auer Dental Company, New York. + + +He tried all the methods of solving cipher letters that he thought of. +He drew diagonals this way and that across the advertisement. He tried +reading it backward. He tried reading every other word, every third +word, both backward and forward. Nothing that he did revealed any +combination of words that made sense. + +“Passports,” he muttered to himself, “that’s it. If there is a message +there it must be something about passports.” + +In despair he turned to the other advertisement. It read: + +DON’T + + +Forget it is imperative for one and all to +use cleansing agents on teeth that leave +no bad results. + +“Ship more of that wonder-working +paste immediately. Workers, employers, +wives, all ready to commend it. Friday’s +supply gone,” writes a druggist to whom +a big shipment was made last week. + + +USE DENTO + + +A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the +teeth, prepared and sold only by the +Auer Dental Company, New York. + + +Fleck’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he read this advertisement +and caught the phrase “wonder-working.” He felt sure now that he was on +the right track. He recalled that Jane Strong over the dictograph had +heard old Hoff speak of something that he called the “wonder-worker.” +As soon as Carter returned with the other advertisements that had been +appearing he felt positive that he would be able to unravel the cipher. +Two words he was sure of—“passports” and “wonder-working.” One +footprint does not lead anywhere, but two do, and given three +footprints, a pathway is indicated. + +His telephone rang sharply. He turned to answer it, suspecting it must +be Carter with some message about the papers he had sent for. + +“Hello,” he called. + +“Hello,” came a faint voice, as if the speaker were using long +distance, and had a bad connection, “is this Fleck?” + +“Yes, Fleck,” he answered, “who is this?” + +“Dean speaking,” came the voice faintly. + +“Dean,” cried Fleck, excitedly, “yes, yes. What is it, Dean?” + +He had not expected to hear any results from the expedition that Dean +and Jane Strong had undertaken until late in the afternoon after the +Hoffs returned. The fact that Dean was calling him up now would seem to +indicate that something of importance had happened. + +“I’m telephoning from a doctor’s house near Nyack,” said Dean. + +“What’s that? Speak louder.” + +“I’m here in Doctor Spencer’s office near Nyack with a broken arm,” +Dean continued. “We’ve had an accident. Somebody’s auto smashed into +us, I guess.” + +“Miss Strong? Where is she? Is she hurt?” asked the chief anxiously. + +“I don’t know. She has vanished.” + +Jane Strong vanished! The chief’s figure became suddenly tensed. That +it was more than a mere automobile accident he felt certain now. +Shadowing the Hoffs was an occupation that seemed unusually perilous. +There flashed into his mind the fate of K-19—murdered almost at the +Hoffs’ door. And now two more of his operatives, one disabled and the +other mysteriously missing. + +“Quick,” he said over the ’phone. “Tell me briefly just what happened. +Speak as loudly as you can.” + +“We got half an hour behind at the West Point Ferry,” Dean’s voice went +on, still weak and low as if he were speaking with difficulty. “We had +some trouble getting started on the trail again but finally succeeded. +We were dashing along about ten or twelve miles south of West Point +when an automobile coming out of a cross road crashed right into us. It +must have knocked me unconscious. I didn’t remember anything more till +I found myself here. I came to as the doctor was setting my arm. I +’phoned as soon as they would let me.” + +“Who brought you there?” + +“I don’t know. All they know here was that some couple in an automobile +left me here. They said they passed just after an auto hit my +motorcycle. They said the auto didn’t stop.” + +“And Miss Strong—did they say anything about her?” + +“Not a word. The people here were under the impression I was riding +alone.” + +“All right,” said the chief. “I’ll get some one up there at once to +look after you and pick up any clues.” + +As he hung up the ’phone, his forehead wrinkled into little lines of +absorbed concentration. He sat at his desk for fully five minutes +almost motionless, trying to figure it out. What did the accident to +Dean signify? How was the sudden disappearance of Jane Strong to be +accounted for? Had she fled from the scene after Dean was disabled, +fearing that her name might be coupled with his in an account of the +accident? It did not seem like the sort of thing she would do. The +impression she had made on him was that of a girl of high resolve who +would be apt to carry through anything she undertook, cost what it may. +Yet what could have happened to her? If she, too, had been injured, why +was she not with Dean? If she was not injured, why had she not +communicated with the office? Who were the couple that had brought Dean +to the doctor’s office? Why had not the doctor taken their names and +addresses? + +What part had the Hoffs played in the accident? Had they purposely run +down the motorcycle? If they had found out they were being shadowed +they would not have hesitated, he felt sure, to resort to such +murderous tactics. Had they not already one dastardly murder to their +record? He must find out when the Hoffs arrived home. They would not be +due for an hour or two, but he would caution the operatives watching +the house to keep more vigilant watch. Reaching for his ’phone he +called up the head-quarters of the operatives. + +“Report to me at once,” he said to the operative who answered his call, +“the minute the Hoffs have arrived home.” + +“The old man is home now,” the operative answered. + +“What’s that?” cried Fleck. + +“He came in alone five minutes ago on foot. The young man is not home +yet with the automobile.” + +“Let me know as soon as he arrives,” said Fleck curtly, turning away +from the ’phone. + +He was more perplexed than ever. What could have happened? Where was +young Hoff with the motor? Where was Jane Strong? Why had she +disappeared after Dean had been hurt? How had she vanished? The Hoffs’ +affairs had assuredly taken a new and bothersome turn, over which Fleck +sat puzzling many minutes. + +Where was Jane Strong? In the answer to that question, he decided at +length, lay the crux of the whole situation. + + + + +CHAPTER XI +JANE’S ADVENTURE + + +For more than two hours Thomas Dean and Jane had been vainly circling +about West Point on their motorcycle, striving to pick up some clue +that would put them once more on the trail of the Hoffs’ car. They had +not dared to ask too many questions of any one near the ferry, fearful +lest the people they were pursuing might have a guard posted there to +warn them in case of a possible pursuit, yet cautious inquiries seemed +to indicate that all the automobiles on the ferryboat which had +preceded had been headed to the north. + +“There’s only one thing we can do,” Dean had said despondently. “We +have got to run out each road we come to until we reach some shop or +garage where the people would be likely to have noticed the Hoffs. They +may have stopped somewhere, or we may meet some one coming toward us +who will remember having passed them.” + +“It seems like a wild-goose chase,” said Jane, “but I suppose there is +nothing else to do.” + +The strain of their bitter disappointment was telling on both of them. +Each felt inclined to blame the other for their having fallen so far +behind. They rode along in silence, their nerves becoming more and more +keyed up as their hopes grew less. At garage after garage they paused +to question the employees. + +“Did a big gray car with two men, an old man with a beard and a young +man driving, pass this way about an hour ago?” + +“I don’t remember any such car,” was the invariable answer. + +Time and time again they repeated their query, wording it always the +same, except for lengthening the interval of time in which the car +might have passed, for the afternoon was rapidly passing. In their +circuit they had now reached the roads pointing to the southward. + +“We’ll try this one more garage,” said Dean, as they approached a +wayside shed bearing a large sign “Gasoline.” + +“I fear it is only wasting time,” said Jane wearily. + +“Don’t you want the Hoffs caught?” snapped her companion. + +“Of course I do,” she retorted heatedly, “but I don’t see you catching +them.” + +“I believe you are half glad of it,” snarled her escort as he brought +the machine to a stop and repeated his usual question. + +“Sure there was a car with two men in it like you describe passed +here,” the man replied to their amazement and delight. “They stopped +here for gas, as they generally do. About three hours ago, I guess it +musta been.” + +Dean shot a triumphant glance at Jane. + +“An old man with a gray beard and a smooth-shaven young man +driving—does that describe them?” he repeated. + +“That’s them,” said the garage proprietor. “They come through here +every few days, always about the same time.” + +“Where do they go?” questioned Dean eagerly, feeling at last that the +scent was growing hot. + +The man shook his head in a puzzled way. + +“I’ve often wondered about that. They’re always heading south and +appear to be in a powerful hurry, but the funny part of it is I ain’t +never seen them coming back.” + +“Do you know their names?” + +“No, I can’t say I do, though it seems as if I’d heard one of them +called Fred. I can’t say which it was.” + +“Do they always come by on the same day—on Wednesday?” asked Jane, +forgetful once more of Dean’s warning to let him do the talking lest +her voice should betray her sex. + +“Come to think of it,” said the man, apparently noticing nothing +unusual, “I guess it always is on a Wednesday they come by.” + +“Is the number of their car anything like this?” asked Dean, exhibiting +an entry in his notebook. + +“I couldn’t say,” said the man, studying the figures. “I know it is a +New York license, and the number ends with two nines like this one +does. What might you be wanting them for?” + +He spoke to a cloud of dust, for Dean had started up the motorcycle +before he finished speaking and already was speeding away. + +“Where now?” asked Jane. + +“I don’t know,” he answered frankly, “I only know we are going the +direction the Hoffs went, and I want to gain on them before they get +too far ahead. The chap back there had told us all he knew and was +beginning to get curious, so I thought it better to vamoose.” + +“It’s funny about his never seeing them coming back.” + +“Probably there is nothing mysterious about that. I have a notion they +always come up one side the river and down the other, taking the 125th +Street ferry home. That would not be a bad plan to help them in eluding +too curious observers. All these German spies are trained to leave as +blind a trail behind them as possible. The thing we have got to +discover is what brought them up here. We’ve just got to find out their +destination.” + +“I am afraid there is little chance of our doing that,” insisted Jane. +“We’ve nothing to go on.” + +“We’ve learned something. We know that their destination is somewhere +between here and Fort Lee on this side of the river. That narrows down +the search considerably. That’s more, too, than anybody else that the +Chief has had on their trail has learned. Something tells me that we +are getting warm right now. Obviously the place they come to must be +nearer West Point than it is New York. They would hardly take too +roundabout a course, even for the sake of hiding their tracks. Keep a +sharp lookout for tire tracks leaving the main road.” + +The route they were following quickly led them into a sparsely +inhabited mountainous district and instead of the concreted state +highway they found themselves on a hilly dirt road, full of ruts and +loose stones that made travel difficult. At times it was all Dean could +do to manage the machine, so that he had to leave most of the task of +observing the by-ways to Jane. For more than two miles they had seen +neither house nor barn. Once or twice they came upon little used lanes +leading off through the woods, but none of them showed any traces of +the recent passing of an automobile. + +As they came dashing around a curve on a steep down-grade, where hardly +more than the semblance of a road had been cut into the hillside, Jane +caught her breath sharply. Above the roar of their own motor she +thought she heard some other noise, something that sounded like another +car near-by; yet neither behind nor ahead was there another automobile +in sight. + +“Listen,” she cried sharply. + +Dean started to slow down, but it was too late. Out of a cut in the +hillside, half screened by a clump of bushes at the side on which Jane +was riding, a great gray motor shot out just as they were passing. Jane +caught just one glimpse of the man on the driver’s seat. It was +Frederic Hoff, frantically twisting at the wheel in an effort to avert +the threatened collision. There came a thud and a crash as the forward +part of the Hoff car struck the motorcycle a glancing blow, overturning +it completely. Too terrified even to shriek, Jane felt herself being +catapulted out of her seat and flung high in air. Then came a blank. + +Her companion did not escape so easily. The heavy machine crashed over +on him and dragged him several yards. His head, as he landed in the +roadway, struck a stone, and the motorcycle itself pinned him to the +earth by its weight, one of his arms doubled up in an alarming fashion, +as he lay there completely senseless. + +Jane fortunately had landed on some soft grass, though with sufficient +force to leave her badly stunned. As she lay there, a boyish figure in +her disguise, her senses began gradually to revive, although it was +some time before she opened her eyes. + +Vaguely, as from a great distance, she began to hear voices, and it +seemed to her that they were German voices, arguing about something. +The voices seemed angry and excited. At first she did not bother about +them. She was wondering how badly she was hurt. Her arms and limbs had +a curious sort of deadness about them, a detached sensation, as if they +belonged to some one else. She wondered if she was paralyzed and dared +not try to move them, fearful lest she might find that it was the +terrible truth. + +The voices—the German voices—came nearer, became louder and more +strident. She struggled to collect her thoughts. Where was she? What +had happened? Where was Thomas Dean? Gradually some memory of the +accident came to her. They had been run down by the Hoffs’ car. The +voices she kept hearing were those of the two Hoffs, angrily wrangling +about something. As she revived further she became acutely conscious +that her head seemed to be splitting. What was it the Hoffs were +arguing about? Still lying there motionless, with her eyes closed, +endeavoring to collect herself, she tried to listen to what they were +saying. + +“I tell you there is not time. I must hurry. Every minute is precious. +I cannot delay my work for these swine, no matter if they both are +dying or dead,” old Otto was angrily shouting with many German oaths. + +“I tell you,” Frederic was saying,—his voice was calmer but +determined,—“we’ve got to get these people to a doctor. It’s too +heartless. I will not leave them here.” + +“And betray us at the last moment, when our plans are all ready,” +snarled old Otto. + +“There is less danger if we bundle them into the car and take them with +us than if we leave them here,” protested Frederic. “Two bodies right +here at the entrance would be fine, _nicht wahr?_” + +His last remark appealed to old Otto. + +“That is so,” he muttered. “It is not safe. We must hide the bodies, +both of them, yes?” + +The bodies! Jane decided that Dean must have been killed and that they +thought that she, too, was dead. As she strove to open her eyes she +could hear Frederic protesting. + +“It’s inhuman,” he cried. “They both are hurt, but perhaps still alive. +We must take them to a hospital.” + +“And endanger all our plans,” stormed old Otto. “Throw them into the +woods.” + +“We’ll do nothing of the sort,” Frederic insisted, his voice becoming +unusually stern and severe. “I’m going to get both of these people to a +doctor at once, I tell you.” + +With effort Jane opened her eyes and looked cautiously about. Where was +Thomas Dean? How badly had he been hurt? The Hoffs’ automobile was +slowly backing up. As she looked old Otto sprang out of it and righted +the motorcycle. As he did so Jane saw the body of Dean lying senseless +beneath it, but to him the old German paid no attention. He was +examining the motorcycle and still sputtering that the swine should be +left to rot. + +“We are going to take them with us in the car,” directed Frederic in a +voice of authority. “I command it.” + +At the word old Otto’s mutterings ceased, though he shot a black look +at the younger man. + +“This machine,” he suggested, “it is not hurt. I will take it and do +our work. There is haste. You remain with the car. Do what you will +with these people.” + +“Go then,” said his nephew curtly. “You can take the train at the first +station and make time.” + +As the old man mounted the motorcycle and sped away Frederic sprang +from the car, and approaching the spot where Dean’s body lay, began +making an examination of his injuries. + +“Scalp wound, perhaps fractured skull, broken arm,” Jane heard him +saying aloud to himself. She noted curiously that as soon as he was +left to himself he began speaking in English. + +He left Dean and approached her. As he came nearer she closed her eyes +again, trying to plan some course of action. Her head was throbbing so +that she found it impossible to think. She felt toward young Hoff a +warmth of gratitude for not having gone off and left them helpless as +his uncle had insisted. Even though he was an enemy of her country, a +man to be hated, a spy, she could not help being glad for his presence +there. What would she have done without him, with Dean lying there +injured and helpless on this lonely mountain road? + +“This chap seems only stunned,” she heard him say as he bent over her, +then as he looked closer, she heard him exclaim: + +“My God, it’s Jane!” + +In an instant he was down at her side on his knees. Tenderly one of his +arms went about her and lifted her head. + +“Miss Strong, Jane, Jane,” he implored, “Jane dear, speak to me.” + + +Illustration: “Thank God,” he cried. “Jane dear, tell me you are not +hurt.” + + +Stunned though she still was a flush crept into Jane’s cheeks at the +unexpected term of endearment, though she still kept her eyes closed. +Gently he laid her back on the turf and hastened to the automobile, +returning with a flask which he held to her lips. Slowly Jane opened +her eyes. + +“Thank God,” he cried. “Jane dear, tell me you are not hurt.” + +For a moment she lay there, staring wonderingly at him as he bent over +her imploringly, the tenderest of anxiety showing in every line of his +face. Unprotestingly she let him slip his strong arm once more under +her head. In her dazed brain there was a strange conflict of peculiar +emotions. He was a German, a spy,—she hated him, and yet it was +wonderfully comforting to her to have him there. Under other +circumstances she could have loved him. He was so handsome, so +masterful and so kind, too. He cared for her. Had he not called her +“Jane, dear” in his amazement at finding her lying there? But she must +not let herself think of him in that way. It was her duty, her sacred +duty to trap him, to thwart his nefarious plans against her country. +She must do her duty just as her soldier brother was doing his in far +away France. + +Still supported by Hoff’s arms she sat up, trying to collect her +thoughts and gingerly testing the movement of her arms and limbs. + +“Tell me,” he cried again, “Jane, dear, are you hurt?” + +“I don’t think so,” she managed to say. + +With his assistance she got up on her feet and walked uncertainly to +the car, shuddering as she looked at Dean’s crumpled senseless body. + +“Your friend,” said Hoff, as he placed her in the forward seat and +wrapped a rug about her, “I am afraid, is badly hurt.” + +“It’s our chauffeur, Thomas Dean,” she explained confusedly. + +She had been wondering what she could say to Frederic to account for +her presence there. It was unconventional at least for a girl to be +motorcycling about the country dressed in man’s clothes with a +chauffeur. Hoff must surely realize now that she had been shadowing +him. She felt almost certain that he had known it from the very first, +since that afternoon when he had overheard her telephoning about the +“fifth book.” Yet never by word or manner had he betrayed the fact that +he suspected her. Beyond his customary reserve in speaking about +himself or his activities, there was nothing to indicate that he knew +anything yet. Whatever she told him now she must be careful not to +betray her mission. Perhaps even in spite of all that had happened she +still might be able to aid Chief Fleck in trapping them. + +But did she really want to trap Frederic Hoff? Had Thomas Dean’s bitter +charge that she was trying to protect him been true? Frederic Hoff +loved her. She, yes—she had to admit it to herself—she was beginning to +love him. Could she go on with it? + +Hoff had been busy lifting the unconscious Dean into the tonneau. As +she watched him as he lifted up the body unaided she was conscious of +admiration of his great strength. + +“Will he die?” she whispered. + +“I don’t know,” he answered. “He is badly hurt. We must get him to a +doctor at once.” + +He stopped a moment longer to examine the car. Fortunately the glancing +blow that it had struck the motorcycle had done no more damage than +shatter one of the lamps and bend the mud guard. Soon they were moving +rapidly in the direction of New York. + +“I think,” said Hoff, “we had better leave him in the care of the first +doctor we come to. We can say that he is an injured motorcyclist we +found lying in the road.” + +“And me?” asked Jane, almost fearfully. + +“I’ll take you back to the city with me.” + +“No,” she replied, “that won’t do. I ought to stay by him. Besides, if +I return with you, it will be hard to explain.” + +He turned to look inquiringly at her and for a moment drove on in +silence. + +“There’s nothing more you can do for the man once he is in competent +medical hands, except to notify his people. Is he married?” + +“No,” said Jane, “he’s not married. I can tell his friends.” + +“Did your parents know about”—he hesitated—“about this trip with the +chauffeur?” + +Jane blushed guiltily, wondering what he suspected of her. She hoped +that he did not think she had a habit of going off on such journeys +with the chauffeur. Even though the man at her side was officially her +enemy she resented being put into a position that would cheapen her in +his eyes. + +“No,” she replied, “they knew nothing about it.” + +Hoff drove on in silence. She had feared that he might ask her more +embarrassing questions, might insist on knowing where she had been +going when the accident occurred. A panic seized her. What if he should +ask her? What could she tell him? He had a masterful way about him. If +he took it into his head to make her confess she realized that she +would have a struggle to keep from telling him everything. She made up +her mind that she would not, she dare not answer any more questions. + +When he spoke again she was relieved to hear a suggestion instead of a +query. + +“When we have crossed the ferry,” he said, “you can put on a dust coat +to hide your costume, and I will send you home in a taxi. Will that be +all right?” + +“That will do nicely,” she replied, gratefully conscious that he was +endeavoring to plan so that her part in the afternoon’s adventures need +not become public. + +Nevertheless she waited nervously while Hoff and the doctor carried +Dean into the doctor’s home. What if the doctor’s suspicions should be +aroused, and he should insist on knowing all the details of the +accident? To her astonishment the doctor seemed to accept Hoff’s brief +recital of finding an injured motorcyclist on the road without +question. Perhaps if she had seen the amount of the bills Hoff left to +care for the chauffeur’s treatment she might have understood better. + +Yet unconscious though Dean had lain all the way, as they resumed their +journey without him, she felt a sudden sense of dread at being alone in +the car with Frederic Hoff. It was not that she longer feared he would +endeavor to make her tell her reasons for the expedition. She was +afraid that with just the two of them alone in the car he might seize +the opportunity to declare his affection for her. + +But, to her amazement, he hardly spoke a word to her on all the rest of +the journey homeward. Once in a while as she ventured a glance in his +direction, annoyed a little perhaps by this neglect of her, she saw +only a strong face set in lines of thought, his brow wrinkled in deep +perplexity, and his blue eyes looking steadily at the road ahead—and at +something far, far beyond. + +Save for an occasional solicitous question about her comfort he did not +speak again until just after he had put her in a taxi at the ferry. As +Jane was trying to say her thanks he leaned forward unexpectedly, his +tall frame blocking the whole doorway. + +“Jane,” he said, his voice vibrant with emotion, “Jane, you must trust +me. Everything must come out all right. Some day—some day soon when we +have won—I am coming to find you and tell you that I love you.” + +“When we have won!” Jane shuddered and drew back in the car, aflame +with sudden wrath. + +She had read and had heard often of the unspeakable conceit of the +Prussians. She knew that they regarded themselves as supermen who could +not be defeated. Her challenged American pride rose to battle. As she +rode home she was sure now that more than she hated anything else in +the world she hated Frederic Hoff, the spy, the German, who had dared +to boast to her that they expected to win. + + + + +CHAPTER XII +PUZZLES AND PLANS + + +Chief Fleck had spent a sleepless night trying to put two and two +together. Instead of the answer being “four” as it should have been +each time he completed his figuring the result was “zero.” Time and +again he mustered the facts into columns, only to succeed in puzzling +himself the more. + +Two German spies, the Hoffs, had set out together in their motor on +their usual mysterious Wednesday mission. Two other persons, two of his +most intelligent operatives, Thomas Dean and Jane Strong, had set out +on a motorcycle to shadow them. + +What had happened? + +Otto Hoff had returned to his apartment on foot, hours before his usual +time, seemingly much perturbed about something. + +Frederic Hoff had arrived back at the apartment, also on foot, some +hours later than usual, and the motor had not been returned to its +usual garage. Frederic Hoff had appeared to be unusually elated about +something. + +Thomas Dean was in a doctor’s home somewhere up the Hudson with a +broken arm and a bad scalp wound and was unable to tell what had become +of either Miss Strong or the motorcycle. + +Jane Strong had arrived home in a taxicab half an hour before Frederick +Hoff, apparently unhurt but in a most peculiar condition of mind. When +Chief Fleck had called her on the ’phone she had refused to answer any +questions. The best he could get out of her was a promise that she +would come to his office in the morning. + +From this situation Fleck’s shrewd and experienced mind had been wholly +unable to make any satisfactory deductions. That something unforeseen +and unusual had happened to the Hoffs he was certain. It was the first +time on a Wednesday that they had not returned together. Whatever it +was that had happened it had depressed old Otto and had been a cause of +elation to Frederic. What could it have been? That was the poser. + +Coupled with this was the annoying fact of Jane Strong’s sudden +reticence. Hitherto he had found her at all times ready and eager +whenever he called on her—ready to do anything he asked her, or to tell +him everything. Why had she suddenly balked? He recalled that Dean had +hinted, and Carter, too, that the girl was becoming interested in the +younger of the Germans, yet he scouted the possibility of Jane having +gone over to the enemy’s side. A girl of her stock, living with her +parents, with a brother fighting in France, never could be guilty of +disloyalty, even if she were in love. Yet how was her disinclination to +talk to be accounted for? After he had received a report that she was +at home he had waited, expecting her to call him up. When she had not +done so, he had called her. She had been positively curt and decisive. +She had nothing to say to him, she had replied, at present. Dean was +safe. She would come to his office in the morning. There was nothing +for him to do but to await her arrival. + +He was expecting Carter, too. He had sent him to Nyack the evening +before as soon as he had learned of Dean’s whereabouts. Carter was to +find out everything that Dean had learned and report as soon as he +could. It was Carter who arrived first. + +“Dean doesn’t know what happened to him, nor where the girl went,” said +Carter. “They had lost the Hoffs’ trail at the Garrison ferry, as he +told you over the ’phone. They had to wait there half an hour for +another boat. They scouted around West Point, and nearly three hours +afterward they picked up the trail heading toward New York. About ten +miles south of West Point they were clipping along a mountain road when +something happened. Dean is not sure whether he hit a stone in the road +or whether an automobile struck them. He was knocked unconscious and +didn’t remember anything more until he came to and found the doctor +setting his arm.” + +“Who took him to the doctor’s?” + +“It was a couple, the doctor said, who explained that they had found +Dean lying in the road under his wrecked motorcycle. The doctor could +not remember what the couple looked like. Said he had been too busy +looking after the injured man. I did worm out of him, though, that the +man had left two hundred dollars with him to take care of Dean.” + +“That’s funny,” said the chief. + +“It sure is,” said Carter. “Looks like hush money to me. What does the +girl say?” + +“Nothing yet,” said Fleck. “She wouldn’t talk at all last night, but +she’s coming here at ten.” + +“That’s funny,” said Carter. “Why wouldn’t she talk?” + +“I don’t know yet,” said Fleck decisively, “but I am going to find out. +Do you really suppose that she has fallen in love with young Hoff?” + +Carter shook his head. + +“Dean thought so, and I know that Dean was in love with her himself, +but I don’t know. I’d bank on that girl somehow, even if she is in +love.” + +“There she comes now,” said the chief as he heard the door of the outer +office open. + +As Jane entered she faced the two men almost defiantly. She too had had +a sleepless night. Although she herself had been physically uninjured +in the accident the shock to her nerves had left her unstrung, and +besides she had been bothering all through the dark hours as to how +much of what had happened in the last few hours it was her duty to tell +to Chief Fleck. + +As her personal relations with Frederic Hoff and her feelings toward +him had in no way affected her sense of duty she felt that it was +unnecessary for her to report the declaration of love he had made to +her. Surely an affair that involved only the heart was her own property +so long as she faithfully reported anything and everything that might +lead to the exposure of the Hoffs’ plots. She could not see that it was +any of Chief Fleck’s business, nor her country’s either, if Frederic +Hoff had fallen in love with her. At any rate it would be utterly +impossible for her to make any statement about her own feelings toward +him. Even in her own heart and mind she was not quite sure what they +were. From the first his forceful personality had had great charm for +her. His obvious interest in her she had found delightful and +flattering. When she recalled how gallantly he had insisted on +remaining to rescue Dean and herself, even before he knew her identity, +she was filled with admiration for him. Yet always matched against all +that she found lovable in him was the knowledge that he was a German, a +traitor, a spy, perhaps a murderer, and at times she felt that she +hated him with a hatred that never could be overcome. + +“Well,” said Fleck, studying her countenance, “what have you to tell +us?” + +“How is Dean?” she asked. “Will he live?” + +Fleck and Carter exchanged glances. Was she, they wondered, really +concerned in the handsome young chauffeur’s welfare, or had she merely +put the question to gain time in framing what she was going to say? + +“I just left him,” said Carter, in response to an almost imperceptible +nod from the chief; “he’s all right except for a scalp wound and a +broken arm.” + +“I’m glad,” said the girl impulsively. + +“What happened to him?” asked Carter. + +“Don’t you know? The Hoffs’ automobile hit us and overturned the +motorcycle.” + +“The Hoffs’ car!” cried Fleck and Carter together. + +“Yes, I thought you knew.” + +“Tell us everything,” demanded Fleck. “Where did it happen? Did they +run you down purposely?” + +“I don’t think so; in fact I am sure they didn’t. It was entirely +accidental.” + +“Where did it happen? All Dean could remember was that you had picked +up their trail about ten miles south of West Point. He could not tell +how the accident occurred. He didn’t even mention the Hoffs or seem to +suspect that they were anywhere near at the time.” + +“I don’t think he saw their car at all,” Jane explained. “I caught just +a glimpse of it before we were crashed into. We were on a mountain road +going down a steep hill when their motor shot out of a deep cut just as +we were passing.” + +“What happened then?” + +“I must have been stunned for a moment or two. When I regained my +senses the Hoffs’ car had stopped, and Frederic was backing the car to +where the accident had happened. His uncle was storming at him for +stopping. He wanted Frederic to go on and leave us there, but Frederic +wouldn’t do it, and they quarrelled. Frederic won out by pointing out +that two bodies lying at the entrance would arouse suspicion.” + +“At the entrance to what?” + +“I don’t know. He didn’t say. I think I could find the place again.” + +“We’ve got to find it,” said Carter. + +“Indeed we have,” Jane agreed, “and quickly, too. I fear we are going +to be too late. Old Mr. Hoff seemed to be in terrible haste and spoke +of their plans being nearly completed.” + +“Go on,” said Fleck quietly, “tell us the rest.” + +“Frederic Hoff stayed behind to pick us up, and the old man went off on +the motorcycle. I heard them talking about his taking a train at the +nearest station.” + +“What did young Hoff do when he found it was you lying there?” + +“He seemed surprised and startled.” + +“What did he say?” + +Jane colored and hesitated. There rose in her mind the picture of his +tall figure bending over her, with anguish in his eyes, with +expressions of endearment on his lips. She could not, she would not +tell them what he had said. + +“He asked if I was hurt.” + +“Is that all?” + +Again she blushed and hesitated. + +“That’s all.” + +“Did he not seem amazed at finding you there? Did he not ask you to +account for your presence there?” + +“No,” said the girl, firmly, “he didn’t.” + +“Didn’t he question you at all?” + +“No,” she insisted, “he was busy getting Dean into the car. He was +unconscious, and it looked as if he was badly hurt.” + +“Queer, mighty queer,” muttered Carter to himself. + +“Didn’t he ask you who Dean was?” questioned Fleck. + +“I explained that he was our chauffeur. He may have known him by sight +at any rate.” + +“Go on.” + +“We stopped at the house of the first doctor we came to and left Dean +there, and then Mr. Hoff brought me on home in the car. At the ferry he +put me into a taxi.” + +“What did you talk about on the trip home?” asked Fleck suspiciously. +“Didn’t he try to pump you?” + +“We hardly talked at all. He seemed concerned only in getting me home +without its becoming known that I had been in an accident.” + +“Is that all?” asked the chief. She could see by his manner that he +mistrusted her, that he felt that she was keeping something back. + +“We hardly exchanged a dozen words,” she insisted. + +Fleck shook his head in a puzzled way. + +“I can’t understand it at all,” he said. “Old Otto is a common enough +type of German, painstaking, methodical, stupid, stubborn, ready to +commit any crime for Prussia, but the young fellow is of far different +material. He has brains and daring and initiative. He is far more alert +and more dangerous. I cannot understand his finding you there and not +trying to discover what you were doing.” + +“I can’t understand that either,” Jane admitted. + +“There’s no doubt in my mind,” the chief continued, “that Frederic Hoff +is the real conspirator, the head of the plotters.” + +“Why do you say that?” asked Jane quickly. “What did you find out when +you searched the apartment yesterday?” + +She felt certain from the manner in which he spoke that he must now +have some damning evidence of Frederic Hoff’s guilt. He was not in the +habit of making decisions without proof. + +“We found,” said Fleck, his keen eyes fixed on her face as if trying to +read her innermost thoughts, “a British officer’s uniform hanging in +Frederic Hoff’s closet, proof positive that he is a dangerous spy.” + +“And,” said Carter, pointing to the two clippings lying on Fleck’s +desk, “in the old man’s waste-paper basket we found those.” + +Jane picked up the clippings and examined them curiously. + +“What are they?” she asked, looking from one to the other; “cipher +messages of some sort?” + +“We think so,” said Carter. “We don’t know yet.” + +“I’ve noticed these peculiar advertisements often,” said Jane, studying +the clippings, “but I never thought of connecting them with the Hoffs. +I wonder—” Fleck and Carter had their heads together and were talking +in low tones. + +“I wonder,” said the chief, “what young Hoff is up to. He must have +known the girl was there to spy on him. I can’t understand his not +quizzing her.” + +“He’s a cagey bird,” Carter replied. “They are both of them expert at +throwing off shadowers. Both of them know, I think, they are being +watched.” + +“Oh, listen,” interrupted Jane, all excitement. “I believe I can read +this cipher. The number of letters in the word in big type at the +beginning of the advertisement is the key. See, this word here is +‘remember’—that has eight letters. Read every eighth word in this +advertisement. I’ve underlined them.” + +Fleck took the paper quickly from her hand and he and Carter bent +eagerly over it to see if her theory was correct. + +REMEMBER + + +Please, that our new paste, Dento, will +_stop_ decay of your teeth. Sound teeth +are _passports_ to good health and comfort. +No good _business_ man can risk ill health. +It is _closely_ allied with failure. The +teeth if not _watched_ are quickly gone. + + +USE DENTO + + +A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the +teeth, prepared and sold only by the +Auer Dental Company, New York. + + +“Stop passports business, closely watched,” repeated Fleck aloud. “That +certainly makes sense and fits the facts, too. In the last few days we +have drawn the net closely around a gang of supposed Scandinavians who +have been busy supplying passports to suspicious-looking travelers. +Let’s see the other advertisement.” + +Excitedly the three of them read it together as Fleck underscored every +fourth word. + +DON’T + + +Forget it is _imperative_ for one and _all_ +to use cleansing _agents_ on teeth that +_leave_ no bad results. “_Ship_ more of +that _wonder_-working paste immediately. +_Workers_, employers, wives, all _ready_ to +commend it. _Friday’s_ supply gone,” +writes a druggist, to whom a big shipment +was made last week. + + +USE DENTO + + +A genuine, safe, pleasing paste for the +teeth, prepared and sold only by the +Auer Dental Company, New York. + + +“Imperative all agents leave ship. Wonder-workers ready Friday,” read +Fleck. “That’s surely a message, a warning to Germany’s agents to get +off some ship or ships before they are destroyed. You, Miss Strong, +have heard old Otto talk about the wonder-workers, whatever they are, +being nearly ready. I guess he means bombs—bombs to blow up American +transports. This message says they will be ready Friday.” + +“And to-morrow’s Friday,” said Jane. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII +THE SEALED PACKET + + +“Is this Miss Strong?” + +Jane, her face blanching, held the receiver in wavering hands for a +moment before she could muster courage to answer. She had recognized +Frederic Hoff’s voice speaking. What could he want with her now? + +“It is Miss Strong,” she managed to answer. + +“This is Frederic Hoff. May I come in for a moment? It is most +important.” + +Again Jane hesitated. Frederic was the last person in the world she +felt like seeing just at this moment. Only five minutes before she had +arrived home from Chief Fleck’s office. She was under orders to hold +herself in readiness to start immediately for the scene of yesterday’s +accident. That this trip, unless their plans miscarried, would +inevitably result in the exposure and disgrace of both the Hoffs she +felt morally certain. To face on friendly terms the man whose downfall +she was plotting, the man who only a few hours before had told her that +he loved her, seemed a task far beyond her endurance, a situation too +tragic for her to cope with. + +Duty, her duty to her country, her honor, her patriotism, her affection +for her soldier brother, all bade her mask her feelings and seek one +more opportunity of leading Hoff to betray himself in conversation if +that were possible. Yet, to her own amazement and horror, her heart +protested vigorously against such action. Harassed as she was by +conflicting emotions, worn out by the trying experiences that had been +hers the last few days, she realized at last that she was really in +love with Hoff. The throb of joy that she had experienced at the sound +of his voice, the thrill that came to her each time she saw him, the +delight she found in his presence, the fact that despite all the +circumstances, she wanted to be near him, to be with him, convinced her +against her will and judgment that her heart was his. In vain she +marshalled the damning facts against him. She tried to remember only +the expression of murderous hate she had seen on his face the night +that her predecessor, the other K-19, had been murdered. She tried to +think of him only as a treacherous spy, an enemy of her country forever +plotting to destroy Americans, yet she could not. However base and +treacherous and low her reason told her Frederic Hoff must be, her +refractory heart persisted in beating faster at the prospect of his +coming. + +Hitherto not much given to self-analysis, she now found herself +wondering at herself. What could be the matter with her? Why must she +love this rascal? Why could she not fall in love with some decent, +clean, patriotic young American, with some man like Thomas Dean? +Chauffeur though he was now pretending to be, she knew that he was a +college man, well-bred, and traveled. She knew, too, that Dean was in +love with her. For him she had a sincere liking, great admiration even, +and toward him now she was experiencing that feeling of sympathy a +woman always has for the man she cannot love. But her feeling toward +Dean, she classified as only that of friendship, nothing at all like +the passionate affection that was rapidly drawing her closer and closer +to Hoff. + +Dared she see him now? Might not her love for him overcome her high +desire to be of service to her country? Might she not be led by her +unruly heart into betraying to him the fact that he was in the most +imminent peril? + +Yet she must see him, she told herself. Perhaps this very day he might +be arrested and imprisoned. She might never again have the opportunity +of seeing him alone and of talking with him. Into her troubled brain +came a daring thought. Perhaps it was not too late, even yet, to turn +him from his evil course. Was there, she wishfully wondered, any +possibility of her leading him, through his love for her, to forsake +his comrades, even to betray them? No, she admitted to herself, that +was a preposterous idea. He was too dominating, too forceful, too +determined, to be influenced to anything against his will. + +“May I come in, please?” he kept insisting over the ’phone. + +“Only for a minute,” she answered tremulously. “I’m going out soon. I +have an engagement.” + +“I’ll come right over. I will not keep you long.” + +As she awaited his arrival, subconsciously desirous of looking her best +in his presence, she stopped almost mechanically before her mirror to +adjust her hair, letting him wait for her for a few minutes. + +He sprang forward to meet her as she entered the room where he was, his +face beaming with delight at the sight of her. + +“Jane,” he cried, with a volume of meaning in the monosyllable, as +seizing her hand, he held it tightly and gazed earnestly into her face. + +Bravely she tried to meet his gaze, to read in his face if she could +the object of his unexpected visit, but her eyes fell before his, and +the hot blood surged into her cheeks. Within her raged a desperate +battle between her head and heart. Mingled with her unwelcome +quickening of the pulse at his approach and admiration for his audacity +in coming to her when he must know that she knew what he was, there was +also an overwhelming sense of futile rage that he, a scheming German +plotter, dared intrude his presence into an American home. + +“I’m glad to see you appear no worse for your accident,” he said, +releasing her hand at last. “You got home all right, without attracting +any one’s notice?” + +“Oh, yes,” she answered, trying to make her reply seem wholly +indifferent and disinterested. + +“Your chauffeur is all right, too,” he went on. “I telephoned this +morning. He had already left the doctor’s. There’s nothing more the +matter with him than a broken arm and a scalp wound. That’s fortunate, +isn’t it?” + +“Very fortunate,” she admitted. + +All at once as they stood there there seemed to have arisen between +them an invisible, impenetrable barrier. They faced each other +wordlessly, each embarrassed by the knowledge of the secret gulf that +was between them. Hoff was the first to recover from it. + +“Come,” he said, “sit down. There is something I wish to say to +you,—something of the utmost importance, Jane.” + +Still struggling with her emotions, Jane allowed him to place a chair +for her and seated herself, striving all the while to crush back into +her heart the warmth of feeling toward him that always overwhelmed her +in his presence, endeavoring to present to him a mask of cold +indifference. Yet her curiosity, as well as her affections, had been +greatly stirred by his remark. What was it that he was about to say to +her? Did he intend, in spite of the insurmountable obstacles between +them, dared he, ask her to marry him? Tremblingly she waited for what +he had to say. + +“Jane,” he said, “you know that I love you. I am confident, too, that +you love me.” + +“I don’t love you,” she forced her unwilling lips to say. “I can’t. +When our country is at war, when she needs men, brave men, how could +any true American girl love any man who stayed at home, who idled about +the hotels, who—” + +“Girl,” his voice grew suddenly stern and commanding, softening a +little as he repeated her name, “Jane, dear, let me finish. I love you. +There are grave reasons—all-important reasons—why I may not now ask you +to be my wife.” + + +Illustration: She could not bring herself to tell him, the man she +loved, the thing she knew he was. + + +“I never could be your wife,” she cried desperately, “the wife of a—” + +The word died in her throat. She could not bring herself to tell him, +the man she loved, the thing she knew he was. + +“My Jane,” he said, wholly unheeding her impassioned protest, “you know +little yet of what life means in this great world of ours. You, here in +your parents’ home, sheltered, protected, inexperienced, have not the +knowledge nor the means of judging me. You must take me on faith, on +the faith of your love for me. For a woman, life holds but two great +treasures, two loves—her husband’s and her children’s. With a man it is +different. Love is his, too, but there is something more, something +bigger—duty. Here in your country—” + +Even in her distress she caught his phrase “here in _your_ country” and +turned ghastly white. Always before in talking with her he had spoken +of himself as an American. Did he realize, she wondered, that he had at +last betrayed himself to her? Was he about to strip the mask from +himself and his activities at last, and in the face of it all expect +her, Jane Strong, to admit that she loved him? + +“Here in your country,” he went on placidly, “women forced by economic +conditions have been driven from home into business, into politics, +into office-holding, even into war activities. Longing for the clinging +arms of little children they are striving to forget in assuming some +part in the affairs that belong properly to men. But to the true woman +love must ever mean more than duty, more than country. Those are words +for men. A woman, if she would find happiness, must follow her heart, +must forsake all for the man she loves. A woman’s duty is only to the +man she loves, just as a man’s duty is to be true to himself, to his +country.” + +“But,” she cried, “you told me you were American, that you were born +here?” + +“Jane,” he persisted, with an impatient gesture, “we will not discuss +that now. I love you. You must trust me in spite of everything. I know +you will. You must. I can answer no questions. I can make no +explanations. I can only say I love you. That must suffice.” + +“No, no,” she protested, almost sobbing. + +“I came here to-day,” he went on calmly, “to ask a favor of you.” + +“A favor,” she cried. + +Calming herself she forced herself to look into his face. There was +something so monstrously unbelievable about his audacity that she could +hardly believe her ears. What sort of a credulous stupid creature was +he, she angrily asked herself, that in one breath he could all but +confess to her that he was a spy and in the next beseech her to do him +a favor. Yet there came to her now a remembrance of her duty to her +country. She felt that she must mask her feelings toward him, that if +she was to be of service she must endeavor bravely to lead him on. She +must try to induce him to confide in her. Hard as her task might be, +what was it compared to the work her brother and those other brave +American boys had undertaken facing the fire of death-dealing guns, +facing the terrible gas attacks, living for days and weeks in those +terrible trenches? Reinforced by a sense of duty, she made a pitiable +effort at cordiality as she asked: + +“What is it you wish of me?” + +From one of his pockets he had brought forth a small packet which he +held out to her. In spite of her agitation she forced herself to study +it observingly, making note that it was tied with strong cord and +sealed in several places with red wax. Curiously, too, she noted that +on it was written her own name. + +“Jane,” said Hoff, “to-night I am going away. I may be absent for only +a day or two if all goes well, but it is possible I may never come +back,—may never be able to see you again.” + +She caught her breath sharply. There was the solemnity of finality in +his tones. Where was he going? What might happen to him? She realized +that the journey he was about to make was in connection with the plot +that she and Chief Fleck were seeking to uncover. Evidently he +anticipated peril in what he was about to undertake. Suppose he should +be trapped in the commission of some act inimical to America’s welfare? +What would happen to him? He would be arrested, of course. More than +likely he would be sent to prison. He might even be shot as a spy. What +if she were the one responsible for his meeting a disgraceful death? +How could she go on with it? She must warn him. She must try to +persuade him to give up his plans. She tried hard to steady herself, to +think calmly. She must listen to every word he was saying and try to +remember it. + +“This little packet is for you,” he went on. “I want you to keep it +safely. In case anything happens, in the event that within one month I +have not returned and you have heard nothing of me, I wish you to open +it and keep what it contains. Promise me that you will do what I ask.” + +In a panic of indecision she got up from her chair, trying to frame a +score of questions, but none of them succeeded in passing the barrier +of her trembling lips. + +“Promise me,” he said softly yet impellingly, as he placed the little +packet in her hand and closed her fingers over it. + +“I promise,” she whispered, hardly knowing what she said. + +Quickly he caught her in his powerful arms. For just a second he held +her there, his face close to hers, his blue eyes burning into hers with +a steady inscrutable gaze as if he was trying to read in them the love +her lips had refused to speak. + +Then, so quickly that it was all over before she quite realized what +had happened, he had kissed her passionately full on the lips and was +gone. + +Overcome with the lassitude which follows emotional crises, trembling +in every limb, weak as from a long illness, the girl sank back into a +chair, still clutching in her hand the sealed packet Hoff had entrusted +to her. Minute after minute she sat there with staring eyes, with heart +beating madly, with her whole body racked with the torment of her +thoughts. + +Slowly she lifted the packet and turned it over and over, wondering +what it could possibly contain, questioning herself as to what could +have been Frederic Hoff’s motive in entrusting it to her. Was there, +she wondered, under those seals, some evidence of his guilt and +treachery that he had not dared to leave behind him? He must have known +that she suspected him and was seeking to entrap him. Had he, knowing +all this, but sensing the love for him that he had kindled in her, +taken advantage of it and extorted from her her promise to keep it +safe? + +Wherein lay her duty now? More than ever she was certain that Frederic +Hoff was on some hazardous mission for the enemy. He had all but +admitted his nationality to her. Her own country’s welfare demanded +that the Hoffs’ plans should be discovered and thwarted. Should she, or +should she not open the package? Possibly it contained some secret +code, some clue to the dastardly activities in which he and his uncle +were engaged. + +But her heart rebelled. She recalled what he had said, that she must +take him on trust. The memory of his burning kiss, of that last earnest +look he had given her, refused to be forgotten. Whatever he was, +however base the work in which he was engaged, she knew down deep in +her heart that Frederic Hoff had been earnestly sincere when he had +said that he loved her. + +As she debated with herself what she ought to do, the telephone rang +again. It was Chief Fleck. + +“Can you meet me at the 110th Street subway station in half an hour?” +he asked. “I’ll be waiting in my car. Arrange it, if you can without +arousing your family’s suspicion, to be away all night.” + +“I will be there,” she answered. + +As she turned away from the telephone with sudden resolve she thrust +the sealed packet, still unopened, into the bosom of her gown. + +“I promised him,” she said almost fiercely. “I’ll keep my promise. That +much at least I owe our love.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIV +THE MOUNTAIN’S SECRET + + +In a turmoil of mental anxiety Jane waited the arrival of Chief Fleck +at the place he had designated. She was still badly wrought up by the +scene through which she had just passed with Frederic. There were +moments when her heart insisted that, regardless of the despicable +crimes that were laid at his door, she should forsake everything for +him, for the man she loved. Had there been in her mind the slightest +possible doubt as to his guilt she might indeed have wavered, but the +evidence of his treachery seemed too manifest! She loathed herself for +caring for him and felt it her sacred duty to go on with her work of +aiding the government in trying to entrap both of them; yet how could +she ever do it? + +As she waited she debated with herself whether or not to tell Chief +Fleck what had passed between herself and Frederic. After all, why +should she? That was her own secret, not the country’s. If she stifled +her love, and gave her best efforts to aiding the other operatives in +running down the conspirators, what more could be expected of her? +Certainly she was not going to tell any one of the sealed packet +Frederic had entrusted to her. She had promised him she would keep it +safe. Surely there could be no harm in that, yet the little parcel, +still in the bosom of her gown where she had thrust it, seemed to be +burning her flesh and searing itself into her very soul. + +In strong contrast with her own spirit of martyrdom was Fleck’s manner. +Never before had she seen him in such high spirits as he was when he +drew up before the subway station in a low car built for speed. On the +seat beside the chauffeur was a young man whom she recognized as +another of the operatives. As Fleck swung the door of the tonneau open +for her she noticed lying on the floor under a rug several rifles and +drew back questioningly. + +“Come on, Miss Strong,” he cried gaily. “Don’t be afraid of them. We +may be glad we have them before we return from our hunting expedition.” + +“But,” she asked hesitatingly as she took her seat beside him, “you +don’t expect to shoot these men—without a trial.” + +Her heart seemed torn in anguish as she sensed anew the peril that lay +ahead for Frederic. Misgivings that she might be unable to fulfil her +task seized her, and she was smitten with reproach for her own conduct +toward him. Why, an hour ago, when there was still opportunity, had she +not warned Frederic? If he were really sincere in the affection he +professed for her maybe she might have persuaded him, if not to betray +his comrades, at least to abandon them and escape from the country. Yet +even now her reason told her that any plea she might have made would +have been worse than futile. Above and beyond his love for her she +understood that he held sacred what he conceived to be his duty, his +misguided duty to his erring country. It was too late now for regrets, +for repentance, too late for her to do anything but to try to serve her +country, cost her what it might, yet anxiously she awaited Chief +Fleck’s reply to her question. + +“Wouldn’t I shoot them all on sight, gladly, the damned spies,” he +responded. “That’s the great trouble with this country, Miss Strong. +We’re too soft-hearted and chivalrous. The Germans realize that war and +sentiment have no place together. If killing babies and destroying +churches will in their opinion help them win the war they do it without +compunction. The civilized world decided that poison gas was too brutal +and dastardly for use, even against an enemy, but that didn’t stop the +Huns from using it. They put duty to Germany above all else, and if +their country expects it are ready to rob, murder, use bombs, betray +friends, do anything and everything, comforted by the knowledge that +even if we do catch them at it here in this country all we will do to +them will be put them in jail for a year or two. If I had my way I’d +shoot them all on sight.” + +“Without any evidence—without trying them?” questioned Jane. + +“Without trial, yes—without evidence, no; but in the case of these +Hoffs we have evidence enough to stand them both up and shoot them.” + +“Have you learned more?” she asked quickly. “Is Frederic, too, involved +with his uncle?” + +He shot an appraising glance at her. He had been inclined to regard +Dean’s suspicion that she was in love with the younger Hoff as the mere +figment of jealousy, but where two young persons of the opposite sex +are thrown together, there is always the possibility of romance. Jane +colored a little under his searching glance, yet what he read in her +face seemed to satisfy his doubts, and he made up his mind to take her +fully into his confidence. + +“Thanks to your quick wit in reading those advertisements,” he said, +“we have now a fairly complete index of the Hoffs’ activities in the +last six months. I have been spending the last two hours in going over +all the Dento advertisements that have appeared. For weeks they have +been sending out a regular series of bulletins.” + +“Bulletins about what?” asked Jane. + +“About everything of interest to the secret enemies of our country: +explanations of where and how to get false passports, detailed +statements of the sailings of our transports, directions for obtaining +materials for making bombs, instructions for blowing up munition +plants, suggestions for smuggling rubber, orders for fomenting strikes. +They even had the nerve to use the name of William Foxley, signed to a +testimonial for Dento.” + +“Who is William Foxley?” asked Jane curiously. + +“In the Wilhelmstrasse code that was in use when Von Bernstorff was +still in this country; in sending their wireless messages they made +frequent use of proper names which had a code meaning. Boy-ed was +‘Richard Houston,’ Von Papen was ‘Thomas Hoggson’ and Bolo Pascha was +always mentioned as ‘St. Regis,’ In this same code ‘William Foxley’ +always meant the German Foreign Office.” + +“But surely you did not learn this from the advertisements?” + +“Not at all. Hugo Schmidt, who was reputed to be the paymaster of the +gang, was caught trying to burn a copy of this code at the German Club. +With the records of their wireless messages our government managed to +reconstruct the whole code. The use of a word or two from this code in +these advertisements is most significant. It shows that whoever +prepared these advertisements was high in the confidence of the German +government. Only the very topnotch spies are likely to be permitted to +know the diplomatic code.” + +“And you think, then, that Otto Hoff may be the head of the +conspirators in this country?” said Jane. + +“Not Otto—Frederic,” said Fleck quickly. “The young man, I am certain, +was the director, probably sent out from Berlin after the country +became too hot for Von Papen and Boy-ed. The old man, I believe, merely +carried out his orders. I doubt even if they are uncle and nephew.” + +“I think you are wrong about that,” protested Jane. “Whenever I was +listening over the dictograph it was always the old man who was so +bitter against America. It was he who talked about the wonder-workers +and the necessity for haste. I never heard Frederic say +anything—anything disloyal, that is.” + +“The fact that he knew enough to keep his mouth closed shows that he is +the more intelligent of the two. Don’t forget, too, that at times he +even dared to don the uniform of a British officer. You saw him +yourself. Undoubtedly he is the more dangerous of the pair.” + +“But who read these advertisements?” asked Jane, seeking to change the +subject. “For whom were the bulletins intended?” + +“It was one of their ways of keeping in communication with their +thousands of secret agents all over this country. I wouldn’t be +surprised if occasionally these advertisements were printed in Texas +papers and shipped over the border into Mexico. We have been watching +the mails and the telephone and telegraph lines for months, yet all the +while Mexico has been sending messages across, telling the U-boats +everything they needed to know. We never thought of checking up the +advertising in papers in the Mexican mail.” + +“But what about the messages old Mr. Hoff left in the bookstores? Was +that part of the plan, too?” + +“It may have been simply a duplicate method of communication in case +the other failed. The Germans here know that they are constantly +watched and take every precaution. We’ll land that girl as soon as we +have the Hoffs safe behind the bars, and then we’ll soon see if +Carter’s dachshund theory was right.” + +“But who,” asked Jane, “is the spy in our navy? Who signalled the +Hoffs’ apartment and supplied them with the news about our transports? +Was it Lieutenant Kramer?” + +“Probably,” said Chief Fleck carelessly, “that is not my end of the +work. It is up to the Naval Intelligence Bureau to clean out the spies +in the navy. I’m after the boss-spy. After we land him it will be +easier to get the small fry. A defiant German prisoner once boasted to +me that Germany had a man on every American ship, in every American +regiment, and in every department in Washington. I suspect it comes +pretty near being true. A country that has so many citizens with German +names and such an enormous population of German descent has its hands +full.” + +As they talked the chief’s car had crossed the ferry, and turning north +through Englewood, was heading rapidly in the direction of West Point. + +“Where are we going now?” Jane ventured to ask. “To the place where I +was yesterday—where we had the accident?” + +“Not directly,” the chief replied. “I sent Carter and some men up there +ahead of us to do some reconnoitering. I’ll get in touch with Carter at +the restaurant at the State Park. He was to call me up. We are nearly +there now.” + +As the car swung into the park and stopped before the entrance of the +two-story restaurant building, Fleck sprang hastily out and started for +the telephone but stopped abruptly at the sight of a young man with +bandaged head and with one arm in a sling who rose from the concrete +steps of the building to greet him. + +“Why, Dean,” he exclaimed in amazement, “what are you doing here? How +did you get here?” + +“You don’t think I was going to be left out at the finish,” laughed the +chauffeur. + +“But your injuries, your arm—” + +“Both all right, as right as they’ll be for several weeks.” + +“But how did you know we were coming here? How did you manage to get +here?” + +“Carter stopped on his way out to make sure about the road. I wanted to +come with him, but there was no room in his car. He refused to bring +me, anyhow. I managed to worm out of him what your plans were, and the +doctor’s jitney did the rest.” + +“Well,” growled the chief, with simulated indignation, though secretly +delighted with Dean’s show of spirit, “I suppose there’s nothing else +to do but to take you along. Climb in there beside Miss Strong.” + +As Dean approached the car Jane rose in amazement. + +“Oh, Thomas, Mr. Dean,” she cried, “I’m so glad to see you. I was +afraid yesterday that you had been badly hurt.” + +“It was a close shave for both of us,” he admitted, flushing with +delight at the warmth of her greeting, “but what are you doing here? +The Chief had no business to bring you on a trip like this.” + +All his affection for the girl had revived at this unexpected sight of +her, and with a lover’s righteous anxiety he resented Fleck’s having +exposed her to the probable perils of this expedition to the enemy’s +secret lair. + +“They needed me,” she said simply, “to show them the way.” + +“That need exists no longer,” he protested, “since I am here. The Chief +must send you back.” + +“Don’t be absurd,” she objected warmly. + +“But it is no place for a woman,” he insisted doggedly, kicking +meaningly at the rifles on the floor of the car. “There may be a fight. +These men are desperate and dangerous and more than likely will resist +any attempt to arrest them.” + +“I want to be there to see it if they do,” said Jane calmly. + +“Please, won’t you, for my sake,” he begged, “go back home or at least +wait here for us?” + +“I won’t,” said the girl doggedly. + +“I’ll ask the Chief to send you back.” + +“Don’t you dare,” she retorted hotly, resenting his air of protection +toward her. + +She was glad for the presence of the two other men in the car. She +sensed that it was only their being there that kept Dean from making a +scene. There was nothing in his manner toward her now of the obsequious +chauffeur. While she admitted to herself that there was no longer the +necessity for his continuing in his fictitious character she strongly +resented his loverlike jealousy for her welfare and welcomed the +chief’s return, for she saw from his face, as he came running up to the +car, that he had received some sort of news that had highly delighted +him. + +Almost before he was in the car he had given orders to start, leaving +no opportunity for Dean to make his threatened protest against Jane’s +presence. + +“I got Carter on the ’phone,” Fleck explained hurriedly as they swung +out of the park and turned northward. “He has succeeded in locating the +place the Hoffs go every week. It is about three miles back off the +road, over toward the river from the place where you two had that +accident yesterday. Away off there in the woods in a deserted locality +is a sort of club, the members of which are Austrians or Germans. They +have given it out that they are health enthusiasts and mountain +climbers, ‘Friends of the Air,’ they call themselves.” + +“Who are they really? What are they doing there?” asked Jane +interestedly. + +“Carter has not had time yet to learn much about them. The place was +some sort of a health resort or sanitarium that failed several years +ago. Last summer it seems to have been taken over by this bunch of +Germans. At times there are only two or three of them there, but +recently the number has increased. Carter thinks there must be a dozen +men there now.” + +“How did he locate the place?” asked Dean. + +“Carter is a real detective,” said the chief enthusiastically. “He +reasoned it out that where there were Germans there must be beer. He +scouted along the main road until he found a wayside saloon where, as +he had shrewdly suspected, they got their liquid supplies. From the +proprietor of the place and the hangers-on he had no trouble in getting +the information he wanted without arousing their suspicions.” + +“Where is Mr. Carter now?” asked Jane. + +“He’s waiting for us a few miles up the road.” + +“He has only four men with him, hasn’t he?” questioned Dean. + +“That’s all.” + +“And there are four of us here.” + +“Three and a half,” said the chief, motioning to Dean’s bandaged arm. + +“It’s my left arm,” he retorted. “I can handle a revolver, at least, +with my good arm.” + +“And I can shoot, too,” boasted Jane; “that makes nine of us.” + +“Nine of us against twelve of the enemy,” said the chief thoughtfully. +“It looks like a busy evening.” + +“And don’t forget,” warned Jane, “that the Hoffs are coming up this +evening. At least young Mr. Hoff told me this morning that he was going +away this evening. That makes two more on the other side.” + +“And one of them,” muttered Fleck, “a mighty dangerous man.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV +THE HOUSE IN THE WOODS + + +At last they had reached their goal, the place which the two spy +suspects undoubtedly had been in the habit of visiting regularly every +week for months past. + +Sheltered by a great rock and the underbrush about it, Jane, with Fleck +and Thomas Dean, peered eagerly out at a dingy, weather-beaten frame +structure which neighborhood gossip had told them was the sheltering +place of the “Friends of the Air.” In its outward appearance at least, +Jane decided, it was disappointingly unmysterious. It looked to her +merely like a cheap summer boarding-house that had gone long +untenanted. There was a two-story main building, cheaply constructed +and almost without ornament, sadly crying for new paint, and the usual +outbuildings found about such places in the more remote country +districts. + +Still from Chief Fleck’s manner she was certain that he regarded their +achievement in locating the place as of the highest importance. They +had run their two automobiles noiselessly up the lane leading from the +main road until they were perhaps half a mile distant from the house +and then had concealed them in the woods near-by, being careful to +obliterate all traces of the wheel tracks where they had left the lane. +Making a détour among the trees they had reached their present position +not more than three hundred yards away from the buildings. They had +carried the rifles with them, and these now were close at hand, hidden +under the log on which the three of them were sitting. Carter, with the +other men, under Fleck’s orders, had divided themselves into scouting +parties and had crept away through the woods to study their +surroundings at still closer range while the waning afternoon light +permitted. + +At first glance one might have been inclined to believe the buildings +untenanted. There seemed to be no one stirring about the place, and +some of the unshuttered windows on the second floor were broken. The +only indications of recent occupation were a pile of kegs at the rear +of the house and near-by a heap of freshly opened tin cans. Near one of +the larger outbuildings, too, was a pile of chips and sawdust. + +“There does not seem to be any one about,” whispered Jane. “What do you +suppose they do here?” + +“I can’t imagine yet,” said Fleck with an impatient shake of his head. +“The fact that this house is important enough for the Hoffs to visit +once a week makes it important for us to cautiously and carefully +investigate everything about it. It may be a secret wireless plant away +off here in the woods where no one would think of looking for it. It +might be a bomb factory where their chemists manufacture the bombs and +explosives with which they are constantly trying to wreck our munition +plants and communication lines. Perhaps it is just a rendezvous where +their various agents, the important ones engaged in their damnable work +of destruction, come secretly to get their orders from the Hoffs and to +receive payment for their hellishness accomplished.” + +“It’s all so funny, so perfectly absurd,” said Jane with a nervous +little laugh. + +“Absurd,” cried Fleck indignantly, “what do you mean? It’s frightfully +serious.” + +“Of course, I understand,” Jane hastened to say. “I was just thinking, +though, how funny we are here in America, especially in the big cities. +We know nothing whatever about our neighbors, about the people right +next door to us. In one apartment we’ll be doing all we can to help win +the war, and in the apartment next door the people will be plotting and +scheming to help Germany win, and it is only by accident we find out +about it. Take my own father and mother. They haven’t the slightest +suspicion of the people next door. They would hardly believe me if I +told them the Hoffs were German spies. They see them every day in the +elevator. Young Mr. Hoff has been in our apartment several times. My +mother has met him and talked with him. I was just thinking how amazed +and horrified she will be when she hears about it and learns what I +have been doing.” + +“You are perfectly right,” said Fleck soberly. “We are entirely too +careless here in America about our acquaintances and neighbors. We know +that we are decent and respectable, and we’re apt to take it for +granted that everybody else is. We don’t mind our neighbors’ business +enough. Nobody in a New York apartment house ever bothers to know who +his neighbors are or what their business is, so long as they present a +respectable appearance. I know New York people who live on the same +floor with two ex-convicts and have lived there for three years without +suspecting it. We should have here in America some system of +registration as they have in Germany. Tenants and travelers ought to be +required to file reports with the police, giving their occupation and +other details. If that plan were in use here enemy spies would lack +most of the opportunities we have been giving them.” + +“Yes,” said Dean, “you are right. I’ve lived in Germany. Over there a +crook of any sort can hardly move without the police knowing it. Their +system certainly has its good points.” + +“It surely has,” Fleck agreed. “If the Prussians’ character were only +equal to their intelligence they would be the most wonderful people in +the world, but they are rotten clear through. They have no conception +of honor as we understand it. Only the other day I read of a Prussian +officer who led his men in an attack on a chateau, guiding them by +plans of the place he had made himself while being entertained in the +chateau as a guest before the war.” + +“Don’t you think any of them have a sense of honor?” asked Jane in a +troubled tone. + +Her mind had reverted, as she found it frequently doing, to Frederic +Hoff and the sealed packet he had entrusted to her. He had professed to +love her and had demanded that she trust him. Was it, she wondered, all +a base pretense on his part? Was he—for Germany’s sake—taking advantage +of her affection for him to make her the unwitting custodian of some +secret too perilous for him to carry about with him? Perhaps that +little parcel she was carrying in the bosom of her gown contained the +code he and his uncle used? Had it not been for Dean’s presence she +might have been tempted to take Fleck into her confidence and tell him +of the peculiar incident, though in spite of all she knew about him she +felt that Frederic Hoff’s feeling for her was real, and that toward her +he always would show only respect and honor, as he always had done +hitherto; and yet— + +Before the chief had time to answer her question Dean with a whispered +“hist” pointed to a path in the rear of the buildings they were +watching. Behind the house two rugged hills, their sides of precipitous +rock so steep that they hardly afforded a foothold, came down close +together, making a V-shaped cleft through which a narrow path ran in +the direction of the river. Looking toward this cleft to which Dean was +pointing they now saw a group of workmen approaching the house. + +All of them were in the garb of mechanics, yet as they approached in +single file down the path, the quick eye of the chief noted that they +were keeping step. + +“They’ve all of them seen service,” he muttered to himself, “either in +prison or in the German army.” + +Some of them carried kits of tools, and they walked with the air of +fatigue that results from a day of hard physical work. They seemed to +have no suspicion as yet that they were under observation, for as they +walked they chatted among themselves, the sound of their German +gutturals reaching the watchers, but unfortunately not distinctly +enough to be audible. Dean was busy counting them. + +“There are fourteen,” he announced, “two more than we were expecting to +find here.” + +“At what do you suppose they are working?” asked Jane curiously. + +“Here comes Carter,” replied Fleck. “Perhaps he can tell us. His face +shows that he has learned something.” + +Carter, crawling rapidly but silently through the underbrush, +approached breathlessly, his sweaty, begrimed countenance ablaze with +excitement. + +“What’s up?” asked Fleck, as soon as he was within hearing. + +“My God, Chief,” he gasped, “they’ve got three big aeroplanes out there +on a plateau overlooking the river—three of them all keyed up and ready +to start.” + +“Friends of the Air,” muttered Fleck; “so that’s what it means.” + +“They’ve evidently smuggled all the material up and built the three +planes right here,” Carter went on. “I watched them putting on the +finishing touches and testing the guy-wires. There is a machine shop, +too, rigged up in one of those outbuildings. The thing that gets me is +how they got the engines here. All the planes are equipped with +powerful new engines.” + +“If there are traitors in the army and navy, why not in the aeroplane +factories, too?” suggested Fleck. “A spy in the shipping department +could easily change the label on even a Liberty motor intended for one +of Uncle Sam’s flying fields. Even when it didn’t turn up where and +when it was expected, it would take government red tape three months to +find out what had become of the missing motors.” + +“These machines”—said Jane suddenly, “they must be the ‘wonder-workers’ +old Mr. Hoff was always talking about.” + +“And that last advertisement we read,” Dean reminded them, “announced +that the wonder-workers would be ready Friday. It looks as if we got +here not a minute too soon.” + +“You bet we didn’t,” said Carter. “Every one of those three planes is +fairly loaded down with big bombs, scores of them.” + +“To bomb New York,” said Fleck soberly; “that’s their plan. Zeppelins +for England, big guns to shell Paris, bombs from the air for New York. +It’s part of their campaign to spread frightfulness, to terrorize the +world. Undoubtedly that is the reason Berlin sent Frederic Hoff over +here, to superintend the destruction of the metropolis. There have been +whispers for months and months that the city some day was to be bombed, +but we never were able to discover their origin.” + +“And not a single anti-aircraft gun or anything in the whole city to +stop them, is there?” cried Jane. “Wouldn’t it be terrible?” + +Fleck smiled grimly. + +“Any foolhardy German who tries to bomb New York from the air has a big +surprise coming to him—a lot of big surprises. The war department may +not have been doing much advertising, but it has not been idle.” + +“Then we have some anti-aircraft guns!” cried Jane delightedly. “I +never heard anything about them.” + +“That would be telling government secrets,” said Fleck, smiling +mysteriously, “but I’d just like to see them try it. I have sort of a +notion to let them start their bombing.” + +“Oh, no, we mustn’t,” Jane insisted. “We mustn’t let those aeroplanes +ever start. Can’t we do something right away to cripple them?” + +“There’s plenty of time,” the chief assured her. “It is best for us to +wait until after dark. The early morning would be ideal time for an +aerial attack on the city, when everybody is helpless and asleep. +There’s generally a fog over the river and harbor, too, before sunrise +at this season of the year, and that might help them to mask their +movements. It would take an aeroplane less than an hour to reach the +city from here, so that there is no likelihood of their starting until +long after midnight. That gives us plenty of time, and besides we must +wait until the Hoffs arrive.” + +“That will make two more—sixteen of them against our nine,” warned +Dean. + +“We cannot help it how many of them there are,” said Fleck. “It is of +vital importance for us to know just what their plans are. It is +unlikely that they will post guards to-night in this secluded spot, +where they have been at work in safety for months. As soon as it is +dark we can smash the aeroplanes.” + +“That will be easy,” said Carter. “I know something about aeroplanes. +Cut a couple of wires, and they are out of business. Sills, one of my +men, is posted on bombs, and he’ll know just how to fix the fuses to +render them useless.” + +“What’s more,” said Fleck, “if I understand German thoroughness, they +will go over their final plans in detail to make sure that everything +is understood. The darkness will let us slip up closer to the house, +and we may be able to overhear what they say. Don’t forget, too, that +our main job is to catch the Hoffs red-handed.” + +“That’s right,” said Dean. “They are the brains of the plot. These +other fellows are just workmen taking orders.” + +“I’m puzzled,” said Fleck, “to know what they plan to do with the +aeroplanes after the bombing has taken place. There is not one chance +in a thousand of their being able to return here in safety without +discovery. It will be sure death for the aviators that take up those +machines.” + +“Sure death!” + +With a shudder Jane recalled what Frederic had said to her only a few +hours ago as they parted—that he was going away and might never return. +Was this what he had meant? Was he, Frederic, to be one of the +foolhardy three who proposed to forfeit their lives in this desperate +attempt to deal destruction from the air on a sleeping city, to wreck +innocent homes, to cripple and maim and destroy helpless babies and +women? She could not, would not believe it of him. That he had the +courage and daring to undertake such a perilous task she did not doubt. +She realized, too, that the controlling motive of all his actions was +his high sense of duty toward his country, and yet in spite of all that +she had learned about the plots in which she was enmeshed, her heart +refused to believe that he ever could bring himself to participate in +such wanton frightfulness. She recalled the spirit of mercy that he had +shown toward herself and Thomas Dean after the accident as contrasted +with the brutal indifference of his uncle. She kept hoping against hope +that something might happen to prevent his arriving here. Devoutly she +wished that she might awake and find that it was all a terrible +mistake, a hideous unreality, and that the “Friends of the Air” were +not in any way associated with the Hoffs. + +Yet her reason told her it must all be true, terribly, infamously true, +and that he was one of them, perhaps the leader of them. + +One by one the members of the various scouting parties had come +creeping in through the forest. All of them verified what Carter had +already reported. One man, more venturesome than the others, had even +dared to creep close up to the rear of the house and had seen through +the window the workmen, gathered about their supper of beer and +sausages, toasting the Kaiser with the unanimity of a set formality. + +As the light waned, secured from observation by the undergrowth between +their position and the house, they sat there discussing plans of +action, selecting while the light still permitted the most advantageous +posts from which they could make a concerted rush on the plotters. +Fleck was insistent that they should do nothing to betray their +presence until after the Hoffs had arrived, and Dean once more voiced +his protest against Jane taking part in the attack. “I will be of far +more use than you with your crippled arm,” she resentfully insisted. “I +can handle a revolver as well as any man, and a rifle, too, if +necessary.” + +“Dean is right,” Fleck decided. “It is no work for a woman. Here is an +automatic, Miss Strong. You will stay here until after we have rounded +them up. If we get the worst of it, which is not likely to happen, make +your way to the automobile and telephone the commandant at West Point.” + +Reluctantly Jane assented. She realized that further protest was +useless. Fleck was in command, and his orders must be obeyed +unquestioningly if their plans for the capture of the plotters were to +be successfully carried out. + +Presently they heard in the distance the sound of an automobile +approaching, and soon they could distinguish its lights as it +negotiated the rough, winding woodland road that led to the house. A +toot from the horn as it arrived brought the men within the house +tumbling out the front door with huzzas of greeting for their leaders, +and Fleck observed that all the men as they came out automatically +raised their hands in salute. + +“Ex-German soldiers, every one of them,” he muttered. + +As the Hoffs got out of the car a shaft of light from the opened front +door threw the figures of the new arrivals into sharp relief, and Jane +saw, with a shudder of terror, that Frederic was dressed in an +aviator’s costume. There was no longer any doubt left in her mind that +he was one of those going to certain death, and a dry sob choked her. + +The Hoffs passed within the house, and the door was closed. + +“Now,” cried Fleck, “to your stations, men. Each of you take a rifle. +You stay here, Miss Strong. Come on, Carter.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI +THE ATTACK ON THE HOUSE + + +In accordance with instructions already issued two of Fleck’s men +rushed for the front of the house, where with rifles ready they stood +guard, while the others took cover in the shadow of one of the +outbuildings a few feet distant from the rear entrance. + +Apparently the plotters had been so long undisturbed in their mountain +fastness that they had ceased to take even the most ordinary +precautions against surprise. So far as could be discovered they had +posted no guards over the aeroplanes and their deadly cargo, nor at +either of the two doors to the main building. Nevertheless Fleck, as he +crept stealthily up to the building with Carter at his side, took out +his automatic and held it in readiness, and Carter followed his +example. + +There was no moon to reveal their movements as they approached the rear +of the house. The evening was warm, and one of the windows had been +left open. Noiselessly they crept up to it and looked within. It opened +into a large room used as a dining hall, where they could see all of +the men clustered about one of the tables, at the head of which sat old +Otto Hoff with Frederic at his side. On the table before him was what +appeared to be a rough map or blueprint. Frederic and five of the other +men, Fleck observed, now wore aviation costumes. + +“Comrades,” old Otto was saying in German, “here is the course. You +will have no difficulty in following it. Down the river straight till +you see the lights of New York. You each understand what you are then +to do, yes?” + +“Certainly,” three of the men, the pilots evidently, responded. + +“Let us, to make sure,” old Otto insisted, “once more rehearse it. Much +there is at stake for the Fatherland. You, Anton and Fritz, will blow +up the transports and the warships that guard them. Six great +transports are lying there, ready to sail at daylight The troops went +aboard to-night. We waited until it was signalled that it was so. You +must not fail. The biggest of those transports once belonged to +Germany. You must teach these boastful Americans their lesson. That one +boat you must destroy for certain. Beside the transports to-night lie +five vessels of war, two battleships, three cruisers. Them you must +destroy also, if there is time. To each transport, two bombs, to each +warship, two bombs—twenty you carry. If all goes well, two you will +have left. With these do what you will, a house, a church, it matters +not—anything to spread the terror of Germany in the hearts of these +money-grabbing Americans.” + +“It will be done,” said Anton solemnly. + +“I have thrown bombs before. You can trust me,” said Fritz. + +“You, Hans and Albert,” old Otto went on, “will fly over the city at +good height. When you reach the end of the island you turn to the left, +so, and come down close that your aim may not miss. Here will be the +Brooklyn Navy Yard,”—he indicated a place on the map. “If there is fog +the bridges will locate it for you. Smash the ship lying there, the +shops, the dry docks; if it is possible blow up the munitions stored +there.” + +“I know the place well,” Hans replied. “I worked there many months. I +can find my way in the dark. It will be done.” + +“And to you, Herr Captain,” said Otto, turning to Frederic and +saluting, “to you, whom the War Office itself sent here to oversee this +all-wonderful plan of mine which it has seen fit to approve, to you and +your mate falls the greatest honor and glory. You—” + +A suppressed sob at his side caused Fleck to turn quickly and lay his +finger on the trigger of his revolver. There, close beside him, +listening to all that had been said, was Jane. Left alone in the +darkness she had found it impossible to obey the chief’s orders and +remain where she was. Every little sound about her had carried new +terrors to her heart. Hitherto she had not felt afraid, but the +solitude filled her mind with wild imaginings. She was seized, too, by +an irresistible desire to know what part Frederic was playing in this +drama of the dark. Was his life in peril? Were Fleck and Carter now +gathering evidence that would bring about his conviction, perhaps his +shameful death? She must know what was happening. Quietly she had +stolen up to peer through the window. + +Fleck, as he recognized her, with an angry gesture of warning to be +silent, turned back to hear what Otto was saying. + +“—you, Frederic, have the glory of leading the expedition, of bombing +that damned Wall Street which alone has kept Germany from winning her +well-deserved victory. You will destroy their foolish skyscrapers, +their banks, their business buildings. Your work will end this way. You +will strike terror into the cowardly hearts of these American bankers +whose greed for money has led them to interfere with our great nation’s +rightful ambition. You shall show them that their ocean is no +protection, that the iron hand of our Kaiser is far-reaching. Do your +work well, and they will be on their knees begging us for peace.” + +“God helping me,” said Frederic, “I will not fail in my duty to my +country.” + +There was something magnificent in his manner as he spoke, something +almost regal, and Fleck regarded him with a puzzled air. Who was he, +this man who had been sent out from Germany on this mission—this man to +whom even old Otto paid deference? Despite the assurance with which he +had spoken Fleck had observed in Frederic an uneasiness, a +watchfulness, that none of the others seemed to exhibit. He had the +appearance of alertly listening, listening, for what? Fleck’s first +thought was that he might have overheard the little cry that Jane had +inadvertently given, but he quickly dismissed this theory. If Frederic +had heard that sound it would have alarmed him, and the look in his +eyes now was one of expectancy rather than of fear. + +Jane, too, was puzzled and distressed. With trembling hands she +clutched at the sill of the window for support as she heard Frederic +assent to old Otto’s plans for him. Her estimate of his character made +it seem incredible that he would willingly lend himself to this work of +wholesale murder, yet she could no longer doubt the evidence of her own +ears. With overwhelming force it came to her that this man who so +readily agreed to such bloody, dastardly work as this, must undoubtedly +be also the murderer of that K-19 whose body had been found just around +the corner from her home. Bitterly she reproached herself that she had +allowed herself to care for him. Shamedly she confessed to herself that +she still loved him—even now. + +“Your great work accomplished,” Otto continued, “remember your orders. +Forty miles due east of Sandy Hook there will be lying two great +submarines, waiting to take you off—not U-boats, but two of our +powerful, wonderful new X-boats, big enough to destroy any of their +little cruisers that are patrolling the coast, fast enough to escape +any of their torpedo boats. How important the war office judges your +work you may realize from this—it is the first mission on which these +new X-boats have been dispatched. They are out there now. We have had a +wireless from them. They are waiting to convey six heroes back to the +Fatherland, where the highest honors will be bestowed on them at the +hands of our Emperor himself. Herr Captain and Comrades—” + +He stopped abruptly, and there came into his face a pained look of +surprise, of terror. + +_“Was is dass?_” he cried in alarm. + +One of Fleck’s men in hiding out there in the shadow of the building +had been seized by an irresistible desire to sneeze. + +The terrifying suspicion that there had been some uninvited spectator +outside, listening to their plotting, swept over the whole room. The +whole company, hearing the sound that had alarmed old Hoff, arose as +one man and stood tensed, stupefied with fear, gazing white-faced in +the direction from which the sound had come. + +Fleck, rudely brushing Jane aside, dropped back from the window and +blew a sharp blast with a whistle. At the sound his men came running up +with their rifles ready. + +Inside, the man called Hans, seizing an electric torch, dashed to the +door, and pulling it wide, rushed forth, his torch lighting the way +before him. Before he even had time to see the men gathering there and +cry an alarm, a blow from the butt of Carter’s revolver stretched him +senseless on the stoop. + +“In the name of the United States I command you to surrender,” cried +Fleck, springing boldly into the open doorway, revolver in hand; “the +house is surrounded.” + +Instantly all within the room was confusion. Some of those nearest the +door, seeing behind Fleck the protruding muzzles of the guns, promptly +threw up their hands in token of surrender. Others bolted madly for the +front door, only to find their egress there blocked by the rifles in +the hands of the guard that Fleck had had the foresight to station +there. + +Old Otto, the pallor of fear on his face giving away to an expression +of demoniac rage, drew a revolver and aimed it straight at Fleck. Jane, +who unbidden had followed the raiders as they entered and now was +standing wide-eyed in the doorway watching the spectacle, was the only +one to see that just as old Otto pulled the trigger his nephew, whether +by accident or design, she could not tell, jostled his arm, sending the +bullet wide of its mark. + +“Come on, men,” cried Fleck, advancing boldly into the room. + +Eight of the Germans, piteously bleating “Kamerad” stood against the +wall near the door, their hands stretched high above their heads. + +“Guard these men, Dean,” cried Fleck, as with Carter close at his side +he dashed into the fray. + +One man already lay senseless outside, eight had surrendered. Four had +fled to the front of the house. That left only the two Hoffs and one +other man against five of them. It was Fleck’s intention to try to +overpower the trio before the four who had fled returned to aid them. +Jane, amazed at her own coolness, stood beside Dean, her revolver out, +helping him guard the prisoners. + +Frederic all the while had been standing by his uncle’s side, strangely +enough appearing to take little interest or part in the battle. Old +Otto, though, despite his years, was fighting with vigor enough to +require both the work of Fleck and Carter to subdue him. Vainly he +struggled to wrench himself free from their grasp and use his revolver +again. Fleck’s strength pulling loose his fingers from the weapon was +too much for him. As he felt himself being disarmed, in a frenzy he +tore himself loose from both of them and seizing a chair, swung it with +all his strength against the hanging lamp above the table that supplied +the only light in the room. + +In an instant the room was in darkness. The four from the front, +rushing back to aid their comrades in answer to old Otto’s cries, found +themselves unable to distinguish friend from foe. Fleck’s men dared not +use their weapons in the darkness. Back and forth through the room the +opposing forces struggled, the air thick with cries and muttered oaths, +the sound of blows making strange medley with the rapid shuffling of +feet. + +Jane, remembering the electric torch that had been carried by the man +Carter had struck down, felt her way to the door and retrieved it from +his senseless fingers. Returning, she flashed it about the room, +endeavoring to assist Fleck by its light. As she let the beam fall on +Frederic she heard a muttered curse at her side and turned to see +Thomas Dean aiming his revolver directly at the younger Hoff. With a +quick movement she thrust up his arm, and the bullet buried itself in +the wall above his head. + +“What are you trying to do,” snapped Dean; “help that damned spy to +escape?” + +“He wasn’t trying to escape,” she angrily retorted. “Look—quick—mind +your prisoners.” + +He turned just in time to see the Germans behind him lowering their +arms. In another second they would have been on his back. At the sight +of his brandished revolver, their arms were quickly raised again. + +Meanwhile Fleck’s men, guided by Jane’s light, were laying about them +with their rifles clubbed. The plotters were at a disadvantage in not +realizing how few there were in the attacking party. Fleck’s +announcement that the house was surrounded had both deceived and +disheartened them. When three of their number had been knocked +senseless to the floor the others surrendered and joined the group that +stood with hands up. + +To Fleck’s amazement it was Frederic Hoff who led in the surrender. + +“Watch that young Hoff,” he whispered to Carter. “I can’t understand +his giving up so easily. It may be only a ruse on his part.” + +“Perhaps he’s afraid the girl will be hurt,” whispered Carter, but +Fleck was not there to hear him, having dashed forward to where old +Otto was still fighting desperately. + +Somehow in the melee the old man had again got hold of a revolver, and +just as Fleck seized him he fired again. The bullet, aimed at Fleck, +left him unharmed, but found a mark in Thomas Dean, who with a little +gurgling cry, fell forward at Jane’s feet. Carter turned at once to +guard the prisoners, as Fleck, with a cry of rage, felled old Hoff to +the floor, harmless for the present at least. + +Sending one of his men to the other rooms in search of lamps Fleck soon +had all the prisoners safely shackled, both hand and foot, none of them +offering any resistance. Investigation showed that old Hoff in falling +had struck his head in such a way that his neck was broken, killing him +instantly. The three who had been clubbed were not seriously injured, +and as soon as they revived were shackled as the others had been. + +Jane, seeing Dean collapse, had turned to aid him and for some time had +been bending over him, trying to revive him. He had opened his eyes, +looked up into her face and had tried to say something, and then had +collapsed, dying right before her eyes. + +“Take the Hoffs’ car outside,” Fleck directed some of his men, “and +bring up our two cars at once. Carter and I’ll guard the prisoners +until you get back. There’s a county jail only a few miles away. The +sooner we get them there the better it will be. It won’t take any court +long to settle their fate. They got Dean, didn’t they?” + +“Yes,” said Jane, getting up unsteadily from the floor, “I think he’s +dead.” + +Fleck bent to examine the body of his aide, feeling for the pulse. + +“Too bad,” he murmured. “That last bullet of old Hoff’s got him, but he +died in a good cause.” + +Jane, brushing away the tears that came welling unbidden into her eyes, +turned now for the first time since his surrender to look at Frederic. + +She had expected as she looked at him lying there shackled on the floor +to read in his expression humiliation at his plight, grief at the +failure of his effort to aid Germany, possibly reproach for her in +having aided in entrapping him. To her amazement there was nothing of +this in his face. + +As he lay there on the floor he was observing her with a tender look of +love, and in his eyes what was still more puzzling was an unmistakable +expression of triumph and happiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII +SOMETHING UNEXPECTED + + +Bewildered by the rapidity with which such a succession of terrifying +events had taken place, Jane sank dazedly into a chair, trying her best +to collect her thoughts, as she looked about on the recent scene of +battle. All of the German plotters had been overcome and captured. +There, dead on the floor, lay the arch conspirator, old Otto Hoff, his +clammy face still twisted into a savage expression of malignant, +defiant hate. + +And there, too, a martyr to the country’s cause, lay Thomas Dean. A sob +of pity rose in Jane’s throat as she thought of him, and the great +tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. He was so young, so brave, so +fine. Why must Death have come to him when there was yet so much he +might have done? With his talent and education, with his wonderful +spirit of self-sacrifice, he might have gone far and high. Regretfully, +she recalled that he had loved her, and with kind pity in her heart she +reproached herself for not having been able to return to this fine, +clean, American youth the affection she had inspired in him. + +Thomas Dean, she told herself, was the type of man she should have +loved, a man of her own people, with her own ideals, a man of her +country, her flag, and yet— + +There on the floor, not a dozen feet away from her, shameful circlets +of steel girdling both his wrists and his ankles, lay the one man for +whom she knew now she cared the most in all the world, the man she had +just betrayed into Chief Fleck’s hands. + +Bitterly she reproached herself for not having tried to induce Frederic +to escape. In mental anguish she pictured him—the man she +loved—standing in the prisoner’s dock in some courtroom, branded as a +spy, as a leader of spies, charged with an attempt to slaughter the +inhabitants—the women and children—of a sleeping, unprotected city. +With growing horror it came to her that in all probability she herself +would be called on to testify against him. It might even be her +evidence that would result in his being led out before a firing squad +and put to an ignominious death. + +She dared not even look in his direction now. What must he be thinking +about her? He had known that she loved him. In despair and doubt she +wondered whether he could understand that she, too, had been influenced +to perform her soul-wracking task by a sense of honor, of duty to her +country equally as potent as that which had impelled him to participate +in this terrible plan to destroy New York. Why had she not informed him +that his plans were known to the United States Government’s agents? +Surely she could have convinced him that his was a hopeless mission. +The plot would have been successfully thwarted, and he would not be +lying there in shackles, but, even though forced to flee, who knew, +perhaps some day after peace had come, he might have been able to +return for her. A great sob rose from her heart, but she stifled it +back. She would be brave and true. She must be glad for those of her +people that had been saved. + +But her parents! What would they say? Her father and mother soon now +must learn that she had been deceiving them day after day. How +horrified and amazed they would be to learn that the chauffeur she had +brought into the household was in reality a government detective, and +that she, their daughter, had been a witness of his tragic death. What +would they think when they learned about her part in this gruesome +drama that had just been enacted? They, serene in their trust in her, +supposing she was at the home of one of her girl friends, were +peacefully asleep in their quiet apartment. How horror-stricken her +mother would be if she could have seen her daughter at this moment, +alone at midnight in a mountain shack, one girl among a band of strange +men—and two men stretched dead on the floor. + +And Frederic! Always her perturbed imaginings led back to Frederic, to +the terrible fate that lay in store for him, to the awfulness of war +that had put between them an impassable gulf of blood and guilt and +treachery that, in spite of their love for each other, kept them at +cross purposes and made them enemies. Why, she vaguely wondered, must +governments disagree and start wars and make men hate and kill each +other? What was it all for? + +In the midst of her mental wanderings she became conscious that Fleck +was speaking to Carter. + +“I’ll stay here with Miss Strong and the prisoners,” he was saying. +“While we are waiting for the men to return with the cars, you’d better +make a search of the house.” + +“Why not wait until daylight for that?” suggested Carter. + +“It is not safe,” the chief objected. “To-night is the time to do it. A +plot important enough to have the especial attention of the war office +in Berlin must have many important persons involved in it. Somebody +with money in New York, some influential German sympathizer, must have +helped old Hoff set up these aeroplanes here and equip his shop. Some +chemical plant supplied the material for those bombs. It must have +taken hundreds of thousands of dollars to carry the plan to completion. +Men rich enough and powerful enough to have put through this plot are +powerful enough to be still dangerous. The minute word reaches the city +that the plan has miscarried there will be some one up here posthaste +to destroy or remove any damaging evidence we may have overlooked. Now +is the time to do our searching.” + +“You’re right, Chief,” Carter admitted. “It would not surprise me if +there is not a wireless plant here. I’ll soon find out.” + +“Let me help,” cried Jane. + +Her nerves were suffering from a sharp reaction. All through the +excitement of the attack she had remained calm and collected, but now +she felt that if she remained another minute in the same room with the +two bodies, if she stayed near that row of shackled prisoners, if she +should chance to catch Frederic’s eye, she either would burst into +hysterical weeping or would collapse entirely. If only there was some +activity in which she could engage it might serve to divert the current +of maddening thoughts that kept overwhelming her. With something to do +she might regain her self-control. + +“Please let me help Mr. Carter,” she begged. + +“Certainly,” said Fleck, “go ahead. You have earned the right to do +anything you wish to-night.” + +Guided by the light of an electric torch Carter and she quickly made +their way to the upper floor. In most of the rooms they found only +cheap cots with blankets, evidently the sleeping quarters of the +workmen, but in one of the rooms was a desk, and from it a ladder led +to an unfinished attic. Boldly climbing the ladder and flashing their +torch about they quickly located a high-powered wireless outfit. It was +mounted on a sliding shelf by which it could be quickly concealed in a +secret cupboard, but evidently the plotters had felt so secure from +intrusion in their retreat that they had been in the habit of leaving +it exposed. + +“I thought we’d find it,” said Carter exultantly. “It’s an ideal +location, up here in the mountains. I’d better smash it at once.” + +“Wait,” warned Jane, thoughtfully, “they spoke of having received a +wireless message from those dreadful X-boats lying there off the coast. +If we could only find their code-book, perhaps—” + +“Right,” cried Carter, catching her idea at once. + +Together they descended to the room below and began ransacking the +desk, Jane holding the light while Carter examined the papers they +found. + +“Their system sometimes is bad for them,” said Carter. “Here’s a ledger +with the names of all the men employed here and the amounts paid to +each. And look,” he went on excitedly, “look what the stupid fools have +done with their German methodicalness—here are entries showing all the +supplies they obtained, from whom they got them and what they cost. +There’s evidence here for a hundred convictions. We’ll just take that +book along.” + +There was one small drawer in the desk that was locked. Ruthlessly +Carter smashed the woodwork and pried it open. Its only contents was a +small parcel, a folded paper in a parchment envelope. Hastily he drew +forth the paper and studied it intently. + +“It’s a code,” he cried, “a naval code, evidently the very one they +used to communicate with those boats. I’ll wager the Washington people +even haven’t a copy of it. That’s a great find. Come on, we’ve got +enough for one night.” + +“Do any of the men in our party understand wireless?” asked Jane as +they descended. + +“Sure,” said Carter, “Sills does. He used to be the radio man on a +battleship.” + +“Couldn’t he be left on watch here?” suggested Jane, “and try to signal +those X-boats and keep them waiting until to-morrow night? Maybe by +that time our—” + +“I get you,” cried Carter; “that’s a good idea. Explain it to the +Chief.” + +As Jane unfolded her plan, suggesting the possibility of sending +American cruisers out to search for the X-boats after Sills had lured +them by false messages to the surface, Fleck heartily approved of it. + +“I’ll leave Sills here with one other man to guard the house,” he said. +“We’ll have to let poor Dean’s body remain here for the present, too. +We’ll need all the room in the cars for the prisoners.” + +There was still much to be done. While some of the men were +unceremoniously carrying out the shackled prisoners and piling them in +the cars, others, under Carter’s direction, crippled the three +“wonder-workers” and dismantled them, carrying their dangerous cargo of +bombs into the woods and concealing them. + +None of the prisoners, since the moment the shackles had been put on, +had uttered a word. Sullen silence held all of them unprotestingly in +its grip. Even Frederic kept his peace, though from time to time his +glance roved about, seeking Jane, and always in his eyes was a strange +look, not of defeat, nor of shame, but rather of exultant triumph. Jane +still dared not trust herself to look in his direction, but Fleck and +Carter, too, observed curiously the expression in his eyes. Was he, +they wondered, rejoicing over Dean’s untimely end? Did he, with true +Prussian arrogance, in spite of the failure of his plot, still dare to +hope that with Dean out of the way, he might escape punishment and yet +win Jane Strong? Even as they picked him up, the last of the prisoners, +and put him in the rear seat of the chief’s car, his eyes still sought +for Jane. + +It was long after midnight before the strange cavalcade left the +mountain shack. Fleck’s car led the way, with the chief himself at the +wheel, and Jane beside him. Crowded on the rear seat were Frederic and +two other prisoners, and standing in the tonneau, facing them with his +revolver drawn in case they should make an attempt to escape in spite +of their shackles, was Fleck’s chauffeur. Carter was at the wheel of +the second car with five prisoners and a man on guard, and the +arrangement in the third car was the same. Six men and a girl to +transport thirteen prisoners! Inwardly Fleck was congratulating himself +on his forethought in having provided shackles enough to go around, for +otherwise he surely would have had a perilous job on his hands. + +As they rode down the mountain lane, Jane rejoiced at the darkness that +hid her face, both from Fleck and from Frederic on the seat behind. Now +that there was no activity to distract her maddening thoughts once more +paced in turmoil through her brain. She loved this man, and she was +leading him to disgrace and death. She hated and despised him. He was a +treacherous, dangerous enemy of her country whom she had helped to +trap, and she was glad, glad, glad. No, no! She wasn’t glad. She loved +him. He had given her that sealed packet and had charged her to keep it +for him. He couldn’t be all bad. Why must she love him? Her mind told +her he was a criminal, an enemy, a spy, a murderer, yet her wilful +heart insisted that she loved him. How strange life was! She and +Frederic loved each other. Why could they not marry and be happy? Why +was War? Why must nations fight? Why must people hate each other? Was +the whole world mad? Was she going mad herself? + +Slowly and carefully, Fleck, with his lights on full, had steered the +automobile down the narrow roadway through the woods. He had just +turned the car safely into the main road, and stopped to look back to +see how closely the other cars were following. Suddenly from the +wayside a dozen men in uniform sprang up, the glint of their guns made +visible by the automobile lights. + +“Halt,” cried a voice of authority. + +The one glimpse he had caught of the uniform had conveyed to Fleck the +welcome fact that the party surrounding him were Americans—cavalry +troopers. + +“Chief Fleck,” he announced, by way of identification. “Who are you?” + +A tall figure in officer’s clothes sprang up on the running board and +peered into Fleck’s face. + +“Thank God, Chief,” he said, “that it’s you.” + +“Colonel Brook-White,” cried Fleck in amazement, recognizing the voice +as that of one of the officers in charge of the British Government’s +Intelligence Service in America. “What are you doing here?” + +“Trying to round up some bally German spies,” explained Brook-White. + +“I’ve beaten you to it,” cried Fleck, with a note of triumph in his +tone. “I’ve got them all here in shackles.” + +“Good,” said Brook-White delightedly. “I was fearful I’d be too late. +There was delay in getting a message to me. As soon as I had it, I +tried to reach you and couldn’t. I dared not wait but dashed up here in +my car. I knew there were some American troopers camped near here, and +I persuaded the commander to detail some of his men to help me. Did you +really capture the Hoff chap, old Otto?” + +“He’s better than captured,” said Fleck. “He’s lying dead back there in +the house.” + +“Good,” cried Brook-White. “He was infernally dangerous according to my +advices—but Captain Seymour—where is he? Wasn’t he working with you?” + +“Captain Seymour?” cried Fleck in astonishment. “I never heard of him. +Who’s Captain Seymour?” + +“He’s one of my chaps,” explained Brook-White. “Wasn’t it he who +steered you up here?” + +“I should say not,” said Fleck emphatically. + +“Good Lord,” cried the British colonel excitedly. “You don’t suppose +those bloody Boches got him at the last—after all he’s been through? I +hope he’s safe.” + +“Don’t worry, Colonel Brook-White,” came the calm voice of Frederic +Hoff from the rear seat. “Chief Fleck has me here safe in shackles with +the other prisoners.” + +“God,” cried Fleck, in astonished perplexity. “Is Frederic Hoff a +Britisher—one of your men?” + +“Rather,” said Brook-White. “Chief Fleck, may I present Captain Sir +Frederic Seymour, of the Royal Kentish Dragoons.” + +But Fleck was too busy just then to heed the introduction, or to pay +attention to the muttered “_Donnerwetters_” of indignation that burst +from the lips of his other prisoners. + +Jane Strong had fainted dead away against his shoulder. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII +WHAT THE PACKET CONTAINED + + +“But,” said Jane, “I can’t understand it yet. How did you, a British +officer, happen to be living with old Otto Hoff? How did you ever get +him to trust you with his terrible secrets?” + +Captain Seymour chortled gleefully. Now that he was arrayed in proper +British clothes, once more comfortable in the uniform of his regiment +and had his monocle in place and was with Jane again, everything looked +radiantly different. Even his speech no longer retained its +international quality but now was tinctured with London mannerisms. + +“Oh, I say,” he replied, “that was a ripping joke on the bally +Dutchmen.” + +Jane eyed him uncertainly. He seemed almost like a stranger to her in +this unfamiliar guise, though for hours she had been eagerly looking +forward to his coming. + +The exciting developments of the night before still were to her very +puzzling. She recalled Frederic’s identification of himself, and after +that all was blank. When she had come to she had found herself in a +motor being rapidly driven toward New York in the early dawn, with +Carter as her escort. He had not been inclined to be at all +communicative. + +“Let the Captain tell you the story himself,” said Carter. “He knows +all the details.” + +“But when can I see him?” questioned Jane. “When,” she hesitated, +remembering the shameful bonds that had held him, “when will he be +free?” + +“He’s as free this minute as we are,” Carter explained. “It didn’t take +the Chief long to get the bracelets off, after Colonel Brook-White had +identified him. There’s a lot for the Captain to do still, but rest +assured, he’ll waste no time getting back to the city to see you.” + +“I hope not,” sighed the girl. + +She was too weary, too weak from the revulsion of feeling that had come +on learning that her lover instead of being a dastardly spy was a +wonderful hero, to make even a pretense at maidenly modesty. She wanted +to see Frederic too much to care what any one thought. + +Slipping into her home fortunately without arousing any of her family, +she had gone to bed with the intention of getting a rest of an hour or +two. Sleep, she was sure, would be impossible, for she felt far too +excited and upset. Yet she had not realized how utterly exhausted she +was. Hardly had her head touched the pillow before she was lost to +everything, and it was long after noon when a maid aroused her to +announce that Captain Seymour had ’phoned that he would call at three. + +As she dressed to receive him, she was wondering how she should greet +him. Blushingly she recalled the impassioned kiss he had pressed on her +lips—why it was only yesterday. It had seemed ages and ages ago, so +much had intervened. Mingled with a shyness that arose from her vivid +memories was also a shade of indignation. Why had he not told her? Did +he not trust her? She resolved to punish him for not taking her into +his confidence by an air of coldness toward him. Certainly he deserved +it. + +Yet, when he arrived, so full of animation did he appear to be, that +the lofty manner in which she greeted him apparently went unnoticed. He +met her with a warm handclasp and anxious inquiries about how she felt +after all the exciting events. Too filled with eagerness to know all +the details of his adventures she had found it difficult to maintain +her pose, and soon was seated cosily beside him, asking him question +after question, all the while furtively studying him in his proper +rôle. As Frederic Hoff she had thought him wonderfully handsome and +masterful. As Captain Sir Frederic Seymour, in his regimental finery, +he was simply irresistible. + +“A joke?” she repeated. “Do explain, I’m dying to know all about it.” + +“It wasn’t half as difficult a job as one might imagine, you know. Our +censor chaps at home have got to be quite expert at reading letters, +invisible ink and all that sort of thing. Hoff for months had been +sending cipher messages to the war office in Berlin. He kept urging +them to act on his all-wonderful plan for blowing up New York. They +decided finally to try it and notified old Otto they were sending over +an officer to supervise the job.” + +“What became of him? The officer they sent over?” + +“Our people picked him off a Scandinavian boat and locked him up. They +took his papers and turned them over to me. Clever, wasn’t it?” + +“And you took his name and his papers and came here in his place? Oh, +that was a brave, brave thing to do.” + +“I wouldn’t say that,” said Seymour modestly. “I fancy I look a bit +like the chap, and I speak the language perfectly.” + +“But it was such a terrible risk to take,” cried Jane with a shudder. +“Suppose they’d found you out?” + +“No danger of that,” laughed Frederic. “Old Otto never had seen the +chap who was coming. His real nephew, Frederic Hoff, whose American +birth certificate was used, died years ago. Besides I had the German +officer’s papers and knew just what his instructions were. The worst of +it was when old Otto insisted every night on toasting the Kaiser, and +when he kept trying to get me mixed up in his dirty schemes. I had to +go through with the former once in a while, but on the latter, I—how do +you Americans say it—just stalled along. My orders were to land him +only on the big thing—his wonder-workers.” + +“But how did you explain to him that British uniform?” + +“Now that was really an idea. The old fellow was getting a bit cross +and suspicious with me because he thought I wasn’t doing enough while +they were getting his ‘wonder-workers’ ready. At one time he was so +distrustful of me that he had me followed.” + +“Oh, yes, I know,” said Jane quickly. With a thrill she remembered the +scene she had witnessed from her window the night K-19, her predecessor +on Chief Fleck’s staff, had been murdered. In her relief at discovering +that Frederic was no German spy, she had forgotten that for weeks and +weeks she had all but believed him guilty of murder. Now, something +told her, surely and confidently, that he could explain it all. + +“I saw you from my window one night before I met you,” she went on. “A +man was following you, and you chased him around the corner.” + +“I remember that,” he said; “the poor chap was found dead the next +morning. Old Otto killed him. The man had been following me, and I had +imagined that he was one of old Otto’s spies and knocked him down. I +couldn’t find anything on him to indicate who he was, so just as he was +beginning to revive I left him and came on home. It seems old Otto had +been watching him trail me. He followed along and shot the man. He +gleefully told me about it the next day, the hound. I ought to have +given him over to the police, but that would have upset our plans.” + +“I see,” said Jane; “what about Lieutenant Kramer? Was he working with +old Mr. Hoff?” + +“That’s the funny part of it. Here in this country you’ve got so many +kinds of secret agents they’re always trampling on each others’ toes. +There’s your treasury agents, and your Department of Justice agents, +and your army intelligence men and your naval intelligence men—nine +different sets of investigators you’ve got, counting the volunteers, so +some one told me, and each lot trying to make a record for itself and +not taking the others into its confidence. Rather stupid I call it.” + +“I should say so,” agreed Jane. + +“Here was I watching old Hoff for our government, and Kramer watching +me for your navy and Fleck watching both of us. It was a funny jumble.” + +“But about that uniform?” Jane persisted. + +“When the old man got to ragging me a bit, I felt I must do something +to convince him I was all right. I suggested trying to get a British +uniform and maybe learning thereby some secrets. It delighted him +hugely. Of course I just went down to Colonel Brook-White and got my +own uniform, and that was all there was to that.” + +“It puzzled Mr. Carter, though, how you got it in and out of the house. +He used to open every bundle that came for Mr. Hoff.” + +Sir Frederic laughed delightedly. + +“I had a messenger who used to bring it back and forth in a big lady’s +hat-box. It always was addressed to you, my dear, but the boy had +instructions to deliver it to me.” + +“Humph,” snapped Jane with mock indignation. “And when did you first +find out that I was helping Chief Fleck watch you?” + +“I suspected it from the start. Kramer told me how you’d become +acquainted with him. Then when I heard you ’phoning Carter about the +bookstore I knew for certain.” + +“Oh, that’s one thing now I wanted to ask about—those messages Hoff +left in the bookstore. Who were they for?” + +“Instructions to a German advertising agency on how to word some +advertisements that contained a code.” + +“Oh, those Dento advertisements?” + +“You knew about them?” cried Seymour in astonishment. + +“Of course,” said Jane proudly. “I was the one who deciphered them; but +what did that girl do with those messages? Carter had a theory that she +slipped them under a dachshund’s collar.” + +“That theory’s just like Carter,” laughed Frederic—“regular detective +stuff. I never heard of any dachshund’s being used. The girl used to +slip them into a letter box in her apartment-house hallway. Two minutes +later a man would get them and carry them to their destination.” + +“The traitors in our navy—the men who signalled old Otto and Lena Kraus +about the transports—who were they? They are the scoundrels I’d like to +see arrested and shot.” + +“Never worry. They’ll all meet their deserts. I can’t tell even you who +they are, but I’ve given your Chief Fleck a list of them. They will be +quickly rounded up now. What else can I tell you?” + +“There’s this,” said Jane, the color rising to her cheeks as she drew +forth from its hiding place in the bosom of her gown the packet he had +entrusted to her the morning before, its seals still intact. + +“What?” he cried in delight. “You kept it safe? You did not open it +even when you saw me arrested, when you must have been convinced that I +was a spy? Girl, dear girl”—his voice became a caress, and the light of +love flamed up in his eyes, “you did trust me then, in spite of +everything.” + +“I had promised you, and I kept my promise,” faltered Jane, striving +for words to explain, though she had been unable to explain her actions +even to herself. “I think my heart trusted you all the time, even +though my head and eyes made me believe you were what you pretended to +be. Even when things looked blackest my heart persisted that you were +true.” + +“God bless your heart for that,” cried Frederic, as he took the little +packet from her hands and began breaking the seals. “Yesterday morning, +when old Otto’s plans were ready, I foresaw the danger of the trip +ahead of me. I realized I might never come back alive. If they +discovered who I was a second too soon it would mean my death. I dared +not, for my country’s sake, tell even you what I was doing. My honor +was at stake. I dared not drop the slightest hint nor write a single +line. The only thing I’d kept about me in the apartment that wasn’t +filthy German stuff was what’s in here.” + +Slowly he was unwrapping something rolled in tissue paper, as Jane, +eager-eyed, looked wonderingly on. + +“But,” he went on, “I couldn’t go away from you without leaving some +token, some clue. If it happened that I never came back, I wanted you +to know—” + +He stopped abruptly. + +“To know what?” questioned the girl breathlessly. + +“To know that I loved you, darling, better than all else save honor,” +he said, taking her into his arms. “See the token I left behind for +you. It’s an old, old family ring with the Seymour crest. You’ll wear +it, girl of mine, won’t you, wear it always.” + +Unhesitatingly Jane Strong thrust forth the third finger on her left +hand, and instinctively her lips turned upward toward his. + +And no matter what might have happened just then in the apartment next +door, neither of them would have known anything about it. + + +THE END + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11240 *** |