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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Spy, by Richard Harding Davis
+#22 in our series by Richard Harding Davis
+
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+The Spy
+
+by Richard Harding Davis
+
+July, 1999 [Etext #1818]
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Spy, by Richard Harding Davis
+******This file should be named thspy10.txt or thspy10.zip******
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+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, thspy11.txt
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+Prepared by Don Lainson
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+
+
+
+
+THE SPY
+
+
+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 Etext of The Spy, by Richard Harding Davis
+