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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Spy, by Richard Harding Davis
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Spy
+
+Author: Richard Harding Davis
+
+Release Date: May 12, 2006 [EBook #1818]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SPY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Don Lainson
+
+
+
+
+
+THE SPY
+
+
+By Richard Harding Davis
+
+
+
+My going to Valencia was entirely an accident. But the more often I
+stated that fact, the more satisfied was everyone at the capital that I
+had come on some secret mission. Even the venerable politician who
+acted as our minister, the night of my arrival, after dinner, said
+confidentially, "Now, Mr. Crosby, between ourselves, what's the game?"
+
+"What's what game?" I asked.
+
+"You know what I mean," he returned. "What are you here for?"
+
+But when, for the tenth time, I repeated how I came to be marooned in
+Valencia he showed that his feelings were hurt, and said stiffly: "As
+you please. Suppose we join the ladies."
+
+And the next day his wife reproached me with: "I should think you could
+trust your own minister. My husband NEVER talks--not even to me."
+
+"So I see," I said.
+
+And then her feelings were hurt also, and she went about telling people
+I was an agent of the Walker-Keefe crowd.
+
+My only reason for repeating here that my going to Valencia was an
+accident is that it was because Schnitzel disbelieved that fact, and
+to drag the hideous facts from me followed me back to New York. Through
+that circumstance I came to know him, and am able to tell his story.
+
+The simple truth was that I had been sent by the State Department to
+Panama to "go, look, see," and straighten out a certain conflict of
+authority among the officials of the canal zone. While I was there
+the yellow-fever broke out, and every self-respecting power clapped a
+quarantine on the Isthmus, with the result that when I tried to return
+to New York no steamer would take me to any place to which any white man
+would care to go. But I knew that at Valencia there was a direct line to
+New York, so I took a tramp steamer down the coast to Valencia. I went
+to Valencia only because to me every other port in the world was closed.
+My position was that of the man who explained to his wife that he came
+home because the other places were shut.
+
+But, because, formerly in Valencia I had held a minor post in our
+legation, and because the State Department so constantly consults our
+firm on questions of international law, it was believed I revisited
+Valencia on some mysterious and secret mission.
+
+As a matter of fact, had I gone there to sell phonographs or to start a
+steam laundry, I should have been as greatly suspected. For in Valencia
+even every commercial salesman, from the moment he gives up his passport
+on the steamer until the police permit him to depart, is suspected,
+shadowed, and begirt with spies.
+
+I believe that during my brief visit I enjoyed the distinction
+of occupying the undivided attention of three: a common or garden
+Government spy, from whom no guilty man escapes, a Walker-Keefe spy,
+and the spy of the Nitrate Company. The spy of the Nitrate Company is
+generally a man you meet at the legations and clubs. He plays bridge
+and is dignified with the title of "agent." The Walker-Keefe spy is
+ostensibly a travelling salesman or hotel runner. The Government spy is
+just a spy--a scowling, important little beast in a white duck suit and
+a diamond ring. The limit of his intelligence is to follow you into a
+cigar store and note what cigar you buy, and in what kind of money you
+pay for it.
+
+The reason for it all was the three-cornered fight which then was being
+waged by the Government, the Nitrate Trust, and the Walker-Keefe crowd
+for the possession of the nitrate beds. Valencia is so near to the
+equator, and so far from New York, that there are few who studied the
+intricate story of that disgraceful struggle, which, I hasten to add,
+with the fear of libel before my eyes, I do not intend to tell now.
+
+Briefly, it was a triangular fight between opponents each of whom was in
+the wrong, and each of whom, to gain his end, bribed, blackmailed, and
+robbed, not only his adversaries, but those of his own side, the end in
+view being the possession of those great deposits that lie in the
+rocks of Valencia, baked from above by the tropic sun and from below by
+volcanic fires. As one of their engineers, one night in the Plaza, said
+to me: "Those mines were conceived in hell, and stink to heaven, and
+the reputation of every man of us that has touched them smells like the
+mines."
+
+At the time I was there the situation was "acute." In Valencia the
+situation always is acute, but this time it looked as though something
+might happen. On the day before I departed the Nitrate Trust had cabled
+vehemently for war-ships, the Minister of Foreign Affairs had refused to
+receive our minister, and at Porto Banos a mob had made the tin sign of
+the United States consulate look like a sieve. Our minister urged me to
+remain. To be bombarded by one's own war-ships, he assured me, would be
+a thrilling experience.
+
+But I repeated that my business was with Panama, not Valencia, and that
+if in this matter of his row I had any weight at Washington, as between
+preserving the nitrate beds for the trust, and preserving for his
+country and various sweethearts one brown-throated, clean-limbed
+bluejacket, I was for the bluejacket.
+
+Accordingly, when I sailed from Valencia the aged diplomat would have
+described our relations as strained.
+
+Our ship was a slow ship, listed to touch at many ports, and as early as
+noon on the following day we stopped for cargo at Trujillo. It was there
+I met Schnitzel.
+
+In Panama I had bought a macaw for a little niece of mine, and while we
+were taking on cargo I went ashore to get a tin cage in which to put
+it, and, for direction, called upon our consul. From an inner room he
+entered excitedly, smiling at my card, and asked how he might serve me.
+I told him I had a parrot below decks, and wanted to buy a tin cage.
+
+"Exactly. You want a tin cage," the consul repeated soothingly. "The
+State Department doesn't keep me awake nights cabling me what it's
+going to do," he said, "but at least I know it doesn't send a
+thousand-dollar-a-minute, four-cylinder lawyer all the way to this fever
+swamp to buy a tin cage. Now, honest, how can I serve you?" I saw it was
+hopeless. No one would believe the truth. To offer it to this friendly
+soul would merely offend his feelings and his intelligence.
+
+So, with much mystery, I asked him to describe the "situation," and he
+did so with the exactness of one who believes that within an hour every
+word he speaks will be cabled to the White House.
+
+When I was leaving he said: "Oh, there's a newspaper correspondent after
+you. He wants an interview, I guess. He followed you last night from the
+capital by train. You want to watch out he don't catch you. His name is
+Jones." I promised to be on my guard against a man named Jones, and
+the consul escorted me to the ship. As he went down the accommodation
+ladder, I called over the rail: "In case they SHOULD declare war, cable
+to Curacoa, and I'll come back. And don't cable anything indefinite,
+like 'Situation critical' or 'War imminent.' Understand? Cable me, 'Come
+back' or 'Go ahead.' But whatever you cable, make it CLEAR."
+
+He shook his head violently and with his green-lined umbrella pointed at
+my elbow. I turned and found a young man hungrily listening to my words.
+He was leaning on the rail with his chin on his arms and the brim of his
+Panama hat drawn down to conceal his eyes.
+
+On the pier-head, from which we now were drawing rapidly away, the
+consul made a megaphone of his hands.
+
+"That's HIM," he called. "That's Jones."
+
+Jones raised his head, and I saw that the tropical heat had made Jones
+thirsty, or that with friends he had been celebrating his departure. He
+winked at me, and, apparently with pleasure at his own discernment and
+with pity for me, smiled.
+
+"Oh, of course!" he murmured. His tone was one of heavy irony. "Make it
+'clear.' Make it clear to the whole wharf. Shout it out so's everybody
+can hear you. You're 'clear' enough." His disgust was too deep for
+ordinary words. "My uncle!" he exclaimed.
+
+By this I gathered that he was expressing his contempt.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" I said.
+
+We had the deck to ourselves. Its emptiness suddenly reminded me that
+we had the ship, also, to ourselves. I remembered the purser had told me
+that, except for those who travelled overnight from port to port, I was
+his only passenger.
+
+With dismay I pictured myself for ten days adrift on the high
+seas--alone with Jones.
+
+With a dramatic gesture, as one would say, "I am here!" he pushed back
+his Panama hat. With an unsteady finger he pointed, as it was drawn
+dripping across the deck, at the stern hawser.
+
+"You see that rope?" he demanded. "Soon as that rope hit the water I
+knocked off work. S'long as you was in Valencia--me, on the job. Now,
+YOU can't go back, I can't go back. Why further dissim'lation? WHO AM
+I?"
+
+His condition seemed to preclude the possibility of his knowing who he
+was, so I told him.
+
+He sneered as I have seen men sneer only in melodrama.
+
+"Oh, of course," he muttered. "Oh, of course."
+
+He lurched toward me indignantly.
+
+"You know perfec'ly well Jones is not my name. You know perfec'ly well
+who I am."
+
+"My dear sir," I said, "I don't know anything about you, except that
+your are a damned nuisance."
+
+He swayed from me, pained and surprised. Apparently he was upon an
+outbreak of tears.
+
+"Proud," he murmured, "AND haughty. Proud and haughty to the last."
+
+I never have understood why an intoxicated man feels the climax of
+insult is to hurl at you your name. Perhaps because he knows it is the
+one charge you cannot deny. But invariably before you escape, as though
+assured the words will cover your retreat with shame, he throws at you
+your full title. Jones did this.
+
+Slowly and mercilessly he repeated, "Mr.--George--Morgan--Crosby. Of
+Harvard," he added. "Proud and haughty to the last."
+
+He then embraced a passing steward, and demanded to be informed why the
+ship rolled. He never knew a ship to roll as our ship rolled.
+
+"Perfec'ly satisfact'ry ocean, but ship--rolling like a stone-breaker.
+Take me some place in the ship where this ship don't roll."
+
+The steward led him away.
+
+When he had dropped the local pilot the captain beckoned me to the
+bridge.
+
+"I saw you talking to Mr. Schnitzel," he said. "He's a little under the
+weather. He has too light a head for liquors."
+
+I agreed that he had a light head, and said I understood his name was
+Jones.
+
+"That's what I wanted to tell you," said the captain. "His name is
+Schnitzel. He used to work for the Nitrate Trust in New York. Then
+he came down here as an agent. He's a good boy not to tell things to.
+Understand? Sometimes I carry him under one name, and the next voyage
+under another. The purser and he fix it up between 'em. It pleases him,
+and it don't hurt anybody else, so long as I tell them about it. I don't
+know who he's working for now," he went on, "but I know he's not with
+the Nitrate Company any more. He sold them out."
+
+"How could he?" I asked. "He's only a boy."
+
+"He had a berth as typewriter to Senator Burnsides, president of the
+Nitrate Trust, sort of confidential stenographer," said the captain.
+"Whenever the senator dictated an important letter, they say, Schnitzel
+used to make a carbon copy, and when he had enough of them he sold them
+to the Walker-Keefe crowd. Then, when Walker-Keefe lost their suit in
+the Valencia Supreme Court I guess Schnitzel went over to President
+Alvarez. And again, some folks say he's back with the Nitrate Company."
+
+"After he sold them out?"
+
+"Yes, but you see he's worth more to them now. He knows all the
+Walker-Keefe secrets and Alvarez's secrets, too."
+
+I expressed my opinion of every one concerned.
+
+"It shouldn't surprise YOU," complained the captain. "You know the
+country. Every man in it is out for something that isn't his. The pilot
+wants his bit, the health doctor must get his, the customs take all your
+cigars, and if you don't put up gold for the captain of the port and the
+alcalde and the commandant and the harbor police and the foreman of the
+cargadores, they won't move a lighter, and they'll hold up the ship's
+papers. Well, an American comes down here, honest and straight and
+willing to work for his wages. But pretty quick he finds every one
+is getting his squeeze but him, so he tries to get some of it back by
+robbing the natives that robbed him. Then he robs the other foreigners,
+and it ain't long before he's cheating the people at home who sent him
+here. There isn't a man in this nitrate row that isn't robbing the crowd
+he's with, and that wouldn't change sides for money. Schnitzel's no
+worse than the president nor the canteen contractor."
+
+He waved his hand at the glaring coast-line, at the steaming swamps and
+the hot, naked mountains.
+
+"It's the country that does it," he said. "It's in the air. You can
+smell it as soon as you drop anchor, like you smell the slaughter-house
+at Punta-Arenas."
+
+"How do YOU manage to keep honest," I asked, smiling.
+
+"I don't take any chances," exclaimed the captain seriously. "When I'm
+in their damned port I don't go ashore."
+
+I did not again see Schnitzel until, with haggard eyes and suspiciously
+wet hair, he joined the captain, doctor, purser, and myself at
+breakfast. In the phrases of the Tenderloin, he told us cheerfully that
+he had been grandly intoxicated, and to recover drank mixtures of
+raw egg, vinegar, and red pepper, the sight of which took away every
+appetite save his own. When to this he had added a bottle of beer, he
+declared himself a new man. The new man followed me to the deck, and
+with the truculent bearing of one who expects to be repelled, he asked
+if, the day before, he had not made a fool of himself.
+
+I suggested he had been somewhat confidential. At once he recovered his
+pose and patronized me.
+
+"Don't you believe it," he said. "That's all part of my game.
+'Confidence for confidence' is the way I work it. That's how I learn
+things. I tell a man something on the inside, and he says: 'Here's
+a nice young fellow. Nothing standoffish about him,' and he tells me
+something he shouldn't. Like as not what I told him wasn't true. See?"
+
+I assured him he interested me greatly.
+
+"You find, then, in your line of business," I asked, "that apparent
+frankness is advisable? As a rule," I explained, "secrecy is what a--a
+person in your line--a--"
+
+To save his feelings I hesitated at the word.
+
+"A spy," he said. His face beamed with fatuous complacency.
+
+"But if I had not known you were a spy," I asked, "would not that have
+been better for you?"
+
+"In dealing with a party like you, Mr. Crosby," Schnitzel began
+sententiously, "I use a different method. You're on a secret mission
+yourself, and you get your information about the nitrate row one way,
+and I get it another. I deal with you just like we were drummers in the
+same line of goods. We are rivals in business, but outside of business
+hours perfect gentleman."
+
+In the face of the disbelief that had met my denials of any secret
+mission, I felt to have Schnitzel also disbelieve me would be too great
+a humiliation. So I remained silent.
+
+"You make your report to the State Department," he explained, "and I
+make mine to--my people. Who they are doesn't matter. You'd like to
+know, and I don't want to hurt your feelings, but--that's MY secret."
+
+My only feelings were a desire to kick Schnitzel heavily, but for
+Schnitzel to suspect that was impossible. Rather, he pictured me as
+shaken by his disclosures.
+
+As he hung over the rail the glare of the sun on the tumbling water lit
+up his foolish, mongrel features, exposed their cunning, their utter
+lack of any character, and showed behind the shifty eyes the vacant,
+half-crooked mind.
+
+Schnitzel was smiling to himself with a smile of complete
+self-satisfaction. In the light of his later conduct, I grew to
+understand that smile. He had anticipated a rebuff, and he had been
+received, as he read it, with consideration. The irony of my politeness
+he had entirely missed. Instead, he read in what I said the admiration
+of the amateur for the professional. He saw what he believed to be a
+high agent of the Government treating him as a worthy antagonist. In no
+other way can I explain his later heaping upon me his confidences. It
+was the vanity of a child trying to show off.
+
+In ten days, in the limited area of a two-thousand-ton steamer, one
+could not help but learn something of the history of so communicative a
+fellow-passenger as Schnitzel. His parents were German and still lived
+in Germany. But he himself had been brought up on the East Side. An
+uncle who kept a delicatessen shop in Avenue A had sent him to the
+public schools and then to a "business college," where he had developed
+remarkable expertness as a stenographer. He referred to his skill in
+this difficult exercise with pitying contempt. Nevertheless, from a
+room noisy with type-writers this skill had lifted him into the private
+office of the president of the Nitrate Trust. There, as Schnitzel
+expressed it, "I saw 'mine,' and I took it." To trace back the criminal
+instinct that led Schnitzel to steal and sell the private letters of
+his employer was not difficult. In all of his few early years I found it
+lying latent. Of every story he told of himself, and he talked only of
+himself, there was not one that was not to his discredit. He himself
+never saw this, nor that all he told me showed he was without the moral
+sense, and with an instinctive enjoyment of what was deceitful, mean,
+and underhand. That, as I read it, was his character.
+
+In appearance he was smooth-shaven, with long locks that hung behind
+wide, protruding ears. He had the unhealthy skin of bad blood, and his
+eyes, as though the daylight hurt them, constantly opened and shut. He
+was like hundreds of young men that you see loitering on upper Broadway
+and making predatory raids along the Rialto. Had you passed him in that
+neighborhood you would have set him down as a wire-tapper, a racing
+tout, a would-be actor.
+
+As I worked it out, Schnitzel was a spy because it gave him an
+importance he had not been able to obtain by any other effort. As a
+child and as a clerk, it was easy to see that among his associates
+Schnitzel must always have been the butt. Until suddenly, by one dirty
+action, he had placed himself outside their class. As he expressed it:
+"Whenever I walk through the office now, where all the stenographers
+sit, you ought to see those slobs look after me. When they go to the
+president's door, they got to knock, like I used to, but now, when the
+old man sees me coming to make my report after one of these trips he
+calls out, 'Come right in, Mr. Schnitzel.' And like as not I go in with
+my hat on and offer him a cigar. An' they see me do it, too!"
+
+To me, that speech seemed to give Schnitzel's view of the values of his
+life. His vanity demanded he be pointed at, if even with contempt. But
+the contempt never reached him--he only knew that at last people took
+note of him. They no longer laughed at him, they were afraid of him. In
+his heart he believed that they regarded him as one who walked in the
+dark places of world politics, who possessed an evil knowledge of great
+men as evil as himself, as one who by blackmail held public ministers at
+his mercy.
+
+This view of himself was the one that he tried to give me. I probably
+was the first decent man who ever had treated him civilly, and to
+impress me with his knowledge he spread that knowledge before me. It was
+sale, shocking, degrading.
+
+At first I took comfort in the thought that Schnitzel was a liar. Later,
+I began to wonder if all of it were a lie, and finally, in a way I could
+not doubt, it was proved to me that the worst he charged was true.
+
+The night I first began to believe him was the night we touched at
+Cristobal, the last port in Valencia. In the most light-hearted manner
+he had been accusing all concerned in the nitrate fight with every crime
+known in Wall Street and in the dark reaches of the Congo River.
+
+"But, I know him, Mr. Schnitzel," I said sternly. "He is incapable of
+it. I went to college with him."
+
+"I don't care whether he's a rah-rah boy or not," said Schnitzel, "I
+know that's what he did when he was up the Orinoco after orchids, and
+if the tribe had ever caught him they'd have crucified him. And I know
+this, too: he made forty thousand dollars out of the Nitrate Company on
+a ten-thousand-dollar job. And I know it, because he beefed to me about
+it himself, because it wasn't big enough."
+
+We were passing the limestone island at the entrance to the harbor,
+where, in the prison fortress, with its muzzle-loading guns pointing
+drunkenly at the sky, are buried the political prisoners of Valencia.
+
+"Now, there," said Schnitzel, pointing, "that shows you what the Nitrate
+Trust can do. Judge Rojas is in there. He gave the first decision in
+favor of the Walker-Keefe people, and for making that decision William
+T. Scott, the Nitrate manager, made Alvarez put Rojas in there. He's
+seventy years old, and he's been there five years. The cell they keep
+him in is below the sea-level, and the salt-water leaks through the
+wall. I've seen it. That's what William T. Scott did, an' up in New York
+people think 'Billy' Scott is a fine man. I seen him at the Horse Show
+sitting in a box, bowing to everybody, with his wife sitting beside him,
+all hung out with pearls. An' that was only a month after I'd seen Rojas
+in that sewer where Scott put him."
+
+"Schnitzel," I laughed, "you certainly are a magnificent liar."
+
+Schnitzel showed no resentment.
+
+"Go ashore and look for yourself," he muttered. "Don't believe me.
+Ask Rojas. Ask the first man you meet." He shivered, and shrugged his
+shoulders. "I tell you, the walls are damp, like sweat."
+
+The Government had telegraphed the commandant to come on board and, as
+he expressed it, "offer me the hospitality of the port," which meant
+that I had to take him to the smoking-room and give him champagne. What
+the Government really wanted was to find out whether I was still on
+board, and if it were finally rid of me.
+
+I asked the official concerning Judge Rojas.
+
+"Oh, yes," he said readily. "He is still incomunicado."
+
+Without believing it would lead to anything, I suggested:
+
+"It was foolish of him to give offence to Mr. Scott?"
+
+The commandant nodded vivaciously.
+
+"Mr. Scott is very powerful man," he assented. "We all very much love
+Mr. Scott. The president, he love Mr. Scott, too, but the judges were
+not sympathetic to Mr. Scott, so Mr. Scott asked our president to give
+them a warning, and Senor Rojas--he is the warning."
+
+"When will he get out?" I asked.
+
+The commandant held up the glass in the sunlight from the open air-port,
+and gazed admiringly at the bubbles.
+
+"Who can tell," he said. "Any day when Mr. Scott wishes. Maybe, never.
+Senor Rojas is an old man. Old, and he has much rheumatics. Maybe, he
+will never come out to see our beloved country any more."
+
+As we left the harbor we passed so close that one could throw a stone
+against the wall of the fortress. The sun was just sinking and the air
+became suddenly chilled. Around the little island of limestone the waves
+swept through the sea-weed and black manigua up to the rusty bars of the
+cells. I saw the barefooted soldiers smoking upon the sloping ramparts,
+the common criminals in a long stumbling line bearing kegs of water,
+three storm-beaten palms rising like gallows, and the green and yellow
+flag of Valencia crawling down the staff. Somewhere entombed in that
+blotched and mildewed masonry an old man of seventy years was shivering
+and hugging himself from the damp and cold. A man who spoke five
+languages, a just, brave gentleman. To me it was no new story. I knew
+of the horrors of Cristobal prison; of political rivals chained to
+criminals loathsome with disease, of men who had raised the flag of
+revolution driven to suicide. But never had I supposed that my own
+people could reach from the city of New York and cast a fellow-man into
+that cellar of fever and madness.
+
+As I watched the yellow wall sink into the sea, I became conscious that
+Schnitzel was near me, as before, leaning on the rail, with his chin
+sunk on his arms. His face was turned toward the fortress, and for the
+first time since I had known him it was set and serious. And when, a
+moment later, he passed me without recognition, I saw that his eyes were
+filled with fear.
+
+When we touched at Curacoa I sent a cable to my sister, announcing the
+date of my arrival, and then continued on to the Hotel Venezuela. Almost
+immediately Schnitzel joined me. With easy carelessness he said: "I was
+in the cable office just now, sending off a wire, and that operator told
+me he can't make head or tail of the third word in your cable."
+
+"That is strange," I commented, "because it's a French word, and he is
+French. That's why I wrote it in French."
+
+With the air of one who nails another in a falsehood, Schnitzel
+exclaimed:
+
+"Then, how did you suppose your sister was going to read it? It's a
+cipher, that's what it is. Oh, no, YOU'RE not on a secret mission! Not
+at all!"
+
+It was most undignified of me, but in five minutes I excused myself, and
+sent to the State Department the following words:
+
+"Roses red, violets blue, send snow."
+
+Later at the State Department the only person who did not eventually
+pardon my jest was the clerk who had sat up until three in the morning
+with my cable, trying to fit it to any known code.
+
+Immediately after my return to the Hotel Venezuela Schnitzel excused
+himself, and half an hour later returned in triumph with the cable
+operator and ordered lunch for both. They imbibed much sweet champagne.
+
+When we again were safe at sea, I said: "Schnitzel, how much did you pay
+that Frenchman to let you read my second cable?"
+
+Schnitzel's reply was prompt and complacent.
+
+"One hundred dollars gold. It was worth it. Do you want to know how I
+doped it out?"
+
+I even challenged him to do so. "'Roses red'--war declared; 'violets
+blue'--outlook bad, or blue; 'send snow'--send squadron, because the
+white squadron is white like snow. See? It was too easy."
+
+"Schnitzel," I cried, "you are wonderful!"
+
+Schnitzel yawned in my face.
+
+"Oh, you don't have to hit the soles of my feet with a night-stick to
+keep me awake," he said.
+
+After I had been a week at sea, I found that either I had to believe
+that in all things Schnitzel was a liar, or that the men of the Nitrate
+Trust were in all things evil. I was convinced that instead of the
+people of Valencia robbing them, they were robbing both the people of
+Valencia and the people of the United States.
+
+To go to war on their account was to degrade our Government. I explained
+to Schnitzel it was not becoming that the United States navy should be
+made the cat's-paw of a corrupt corporation. I asked his permission to
+repeat to the authorities at Washington certain of the statements he had
+made.
+
+Schnitzel was greatly pleased.
+
+"You're welcome to tell 'em anything I've said," he assented. "And," he
+added, "most of it's true, too."
+
+I wrote down certain charges he had made, and added what I had always
+known of the nitrate fight. It was a terrible arraignment. In
+the evening I read my notes to Schnitzel, who, in a corner of the
+smoking-room, sat, frowning importantly, checking off each statement,
+and where I made an error of a date or a name, severely correcting me.
+
+Several times I asked him, "Are you sure this won't get you into trouble
+with your 'people'? You seem to accuse everybody on each side."
+
+Schnitzel's eyes instantly closed with suspicion.
+
+"Don't you worry about me and my people," he returned sulkily. "That's
+MY secret, and you won't find it out, neither. I may be as crooked as
+the rest of them, but I'm not giving away my employer."
+
+I suppose I looked puzzled.
+
+"I mean not a second time," he added hastily. "I know what you're
+thinking of, and I got five thousand dollars for it. But now I mean to
+stick by the men that pay my wages."
+
+"But you've told me enough about each of the three to put any one of
+them in jail."
+
+"Of course, I have," cried Schnitzel triumphantly.
+
+"If I'd let down on any one crowd you'd know I was working for that
+crowd, so I've touched 'em all up. Only what I told you about my
+crowd--isn't true."
+
+The report we finally drew up was so sensational that I was of a mind
+to throw it overboard. It accused members of the Cabinet, of our Senate,
+diplomats, business men of national interest, judges of the Valencia
+courts, private secretaries, clerks, hired bullies, and filibusters.
+Men the trust could not bribe it had blackmailed. Those it could not
+corrupt, and they were pitifully few, it crushed with some disgraceful
+charge.
+
+Looking over my notes, I said:
+
+"You seem to have made every charge except murder."
+
+"How'd I come to leave that out?" Schnitzel answered flippantly.
+"What about Coleman, the foreman at Bahia, and that German contractor,
+Ebhardt, and old Smedburg? They talked too much, and they died of
+yellow-fever, maybe, and maybe what happened to them was they ate
+knockout drops in their soup."
+
+I disbelieved him, but there came a sudden nasty doubt.
+
+"Curtis, who managed the company's plant at Barcelona, died of
+yellow-fever," I said, "and was buried the same day."
+
+For some time Schnitzel glowered uncertainly at the bulkhead.
+
+"Did you know him?" he asked.
+
+"When I was in the legation I knew him well," I said.
+
+"So did I," said Schnitzel. "He wasn't murdered. He murdered himself. He
+was wrong ten thousand dollars in his accounts. He got worrying about it
+and we found him outside the clearing with a hole in his head. He left a
+note saying he couldn't bear the disgrace. As if the company would hold
+a little grafting against as good a man as Curtis!"
+
+Schnitzel coughed and pretended it was his cigarette.
+
+"You see you don't put in nothing against him," he added savagely.
+
+It was the first time I had seen Schnitzel show emotion, and I was moved
+to preach.
+
+"Why don't you quit?" I said. "You had an A-1 job as a stenographer. Why
+don't you go back to it?"
+
+"Maybe, some day. But it's great being your own boss. If I was a
+stenographer, I wouldn't be helping you send in a report to the State
+Department, would I? No, this job is all right. They send you after
+something big, and you have the devil of a time getting it, but when you
+get it, you feel like you had picked a hundred-to-one shot."
+
+The talk or the drink had elated him. His fish-like eyes bulged and
+shone. He cast a quick look about him. Except for ourselves, the
+smoking-room was empty. From below came the steady throb of the engines,
+and from outside the whisper of the waves and of the wind through the
+cordage. A barefooted sailor pattered by to the bridge. Schnitzel bent
+toward me, and with his hand pointed to his throat.
+
+"I've got papers on me that's worth a million to a certain party," he
+whispered. "You understand, my notes in cipher."
+
+He scowled with intense mystery.
+
+"I keep 'em in an oiled-silk bag, tied around my neck with a string.
+And here," he added hastily, patting his hip, as though to forestall any
+attack I might make upon his person, "I carry my automatic. It shoots
+nine bullets in five seconds. They got to be quick to catch me."
+
+"Well, if you have either of those things on you," I said testily, "I
+don't want to know it. How often have I told you not to talk and drink
+at the same time?"
+
+"Ah, go on," laughed Schnitzel. "That's an old gag, warning a fellow not
+to talk so as to MAKE him talk. I do that myself."
+
+That Schnitzel had important papers tied to his neck I no more believe
+than that he wore a shirt of chain armor, but to please him I pretended
+to be greatly concerned.
+
+"Now that we're getting into New York," I said, "you must be very
+careful. A man who carries such important documents on his person might
+be murdered for them. I think you ought to disguise yourself."
+
+A picture of my bag being carried ashore by Schnitzel in the uniform of
+a ship's steward rather pleased me.
+
+"Go on, you're kidding!" said Schnitzel. He was drawn between believing
+I was deeply impressed and with fear that I was mocking him.
+
+"On the contrary," I protested, "I don't feel quite safe myself. Seeing
+me with you they may think I have papers around MY neck."
+
+"They wouldn't look at you," Schnitzel reassured me. "They know you're
+just an amateur. But, as you say, with me, it's different. I GOT to be
+careful. Now, you mightn't believe it, but I never go near my uncle nor
+none of my friends that live where I used to hang out. If I did, the
+other spies would get on my track. I suppose," he went on grandly, "I
+never go out in New York but that at least two spies are trailing me.
+But I know how to throw them off. I live 'way down town in a little
+hotel you never heard of. You never catch me dining at Sherry's nor the
+Waldorf. And you never met me out socially, did you, now?"
+
+I confessed I had not.
+
+"And then, I always live under an assumed name."
+
+"Like 'Jones'?" I suggested.
+
+"Well, sometimes 'Jones'," he admitted.
+
+"To me," I said, "'Jones' lacks imagination. It's the sort of name you
+give when you're arrested for exceeding the speed limit. Why don't you
+call yourself Machiavelli?"
+
+"Go on, I'm no dago," said Schnitzel, "and don't you go off thinking
+'Jones' is the only disguise I use. But I'm not tellin' what it is, am
+I? Oh, no."
+
+"Schnitzel," I asked, "have you ever been told that you would make a
+great detective?"
+
+"Cut it out," said Schnitzel. "You've been reading those fairy stories.
+There's no fly cops nor Pinks could do the work I do. They're pikers
+compared to me. They chase petty-larceny cases and kick in doors. I
+wouldn't stoop to what they do. It's being mixed up the way I am
+with the problems of two governments that catches me." He added
+magnanimously, "You see something of that yourself."
+
+We left the ship at Brooklyn, and with regret I prepared to bid
+Schnitzel farewell. Seldom had I met a little beast so offensive, but
+his vanity, his lies, his moral blindness, made one pity him. And in ten
+days in the smoking-room together we had had many friendly drinks and
+many friendly laughs. He was going to a hotel on lower Broadway, and
+as my cab, on my way uptown, passed the door, I offered him a lift.
+He appeared to consider the advisability of this, and then, with much
+by-play of glancing over his shoulder, dived into the front seat and
+drew down the blinds. "This hotel I am going to is an old-fashioned
+trap," he explained, "but the clerk is wise to me, understand, and I
+don't have to sign the register."
+
+As we drew nearer to the hotel, he said: "It's a pity we can't dine out
+somewheres and go to the theatre, but--you know?"
+
+With almost too much heartiness I hastily agreed it would be imprudent.
+
+"I understand perfectly," I assented. "You are a marked man. Until you
+get those papers safe in the hands of your 'people,' you must be very
+cautious."
+
+"That's right," he said. Then he smiled craftily.
+
+"I wonder if you're on yet to which my people are."
+
+I assured him that I had no idea, but that from the avidity with which
+he had abused them I guessed he was working for the Walker-Keefe crowd.
+
+He both smiled and scowled.
+
+"Don't you wish you knew?" he said. "I've told you a lot of inside
+stories, Mr. Crosby, but I'll never tell on my pals again. Not me!
+That's MY secret."
+
+At the door of the hotel he bade me a hasty good-by, and for a few
+minutes I believed that Schnitzel had passed out of my life forever.
+Then, in taking account of my belongings, I missed my field-glasses. I
+remembered that, in order to open a trunk for the customs inspectors,
+I had handed them to Schnitzel, and that he had hung them over his
+shoulder. In our haste at parting we both had forgotten them.
+
+I was only a few blocks from the hotel, and I told the man to return.
+
+I inquired for Mr. Schnitzel, and the clerk, who apparently knew him by
+that name, said he was in his room, number eighty-two.
+
+"But he has a caller with him now," he added. "A gentleman was waiting
+for him, and's just gone up."
+
+I wrote on my card why I had called, and soon after it had been borne
+skyward the clerk said: "I guess he'll be able to see you now. That's
+the party that was calling on him, there."
+
+He nodded toward a man who crossed the rotunda quickly. His face was
+twisted from us, as though, as he almost ran toward the street, he were
+reading the advertisements on the wall.
+
+He reached the door, and was lost in the great tide of Broadway.
+
+I crossed to the elevator, and as I stood waiting, it descended with a
+crash, and the boy who had taken my card flung himself, shrieking, into
+the rotunda.
+
+"That man--stop him!" he cried. "The man in eighty-two--he's murdered."
+
+The clerk vaulted the desk and sprang into the street, and I dragged the
+boy back to the wire rope and we shot to the third story. The boy shrank
+back. A chambermaid, crouching against the wall, her face colorless,
+lowered one hand, and pointed at an open door.
+
+"In there," she whispered.
+
+In a mean, common room, stretched where he had been struck back upon the
+bed, I found the boy who had elected to meddle in the "problems of two
+governments."
+
+In tiny jets, from three wide knife-wounds, his blood flowed slowly. His
+staring eyes were lifted up in fear and in entreaty. I knew that he was
+dying, and as I felt my impotence to help him, I as keenly felt a great
+rage and a hatred toward those who had struck him.
+
+I leaned over him until my eyes were only a few inches from his face.
+
+"Schnitzel!" I cried. "Who did this? You can trust me. Who did this?
+Quick!"
+
+I saw that he recognized me, and that there was something which, with
+terrible effort, he was trying to make me understand.
+
+In the hall was the rush of many people, running, exclaiming, the noise
+of bells ringing; from another floor the voice of a woman shrieked
+hysterically.
+
+At the sounds the eyes of the boy grew eloquent with entreaty, and with
+a movement that called from each wound a fresh outburst, like a man
+strangling, he lifted his fingers to his throat.
+
+Voices were calling for water, to wait for the doctor, to wait for the
+police. But I thought I understood.
+
+Still doubting him, still unbelieving, ashamed of my own credulity, I
+tore at his collar, and my fingers closed upon a package of oiled silk.
+
+I stooped, and with my teeth ripped it open, and holding before him the
+slips of paper it contained, tore them into tiny shreds.
+
+The eyes smiled at me with cunning, with triumph, with deep content.
+
+It was so like the Schnitzel I had known that I believed still he might
+have strength enough to help me.
+
+"Who did this?" I begged. "I'll hang him for it! Do you hear me?" I
+cried.
+
+Seeing him lying there, with the life cut out of him, swept me with a
+blind anger, with a need to punish.
+
+"I'll see they hang for it. Tell me!" I commanded. "Who did this?"
+
+The eyes, now filled with weariness, looked up and the lips moved
+feebly.
+
+"My own people," he whispered.
+
+In my indignation I could have shaken the truth from him. I bent closer.
+
+"Then, by God," I whispered back, "you'll tell me who they are!"
+
+The eyes flashed sullenly.
+
+"That's my secret," said Schnitzel.
+
+The eyes set and the lips closed.
+
+A man at my side leaned over him, and drew the sheet across his face.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Spy, by Richard Harding Davis
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