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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of On Secret Service, by William Nelson Taft
+
+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: On Secret Service
+       Detective-Mystery Stories Based on Real Cases Solved By
+       Government Agents
+
+Author: William Nelson Taft
+
+Release Date: November 25, 2011 [EBook #38131]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON SECRET SERVICE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: These stories have introductions which end with
+thought breaks, sometimes with a closing quotation mark from the
+storyteller. When the storyteller continues the story after the thought
+break, opening quotation marks are consistently omitted.
+
+Remaining transcriber's notes are located at the end of the text.]
+
+
+[Cover Illustration: On Secret Service,
+William Nelson Taft]
+
+
+
+
+ON SECRET SERVICE
+
+[Decoration]
+
+
+
+
+    ON SECRET SERVICE
+
+    _Detective-Mystery Stories
+    Based on Real Cases Solved
+    By Government Agents_
+
+    BY
+    WILLIAM NELSON TAFT
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
+    NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+    ON SECRET SERVICE
+
+    Copyright, 1921, by Harper & Brothers
+    Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                  PAGE
+
+        I. A FLASH IN THE NIGHT                      1
+
+       II. THE MINT MYSTERY                         15
+
+      III. THE YPIRANGA CASE                        28
+
+       IV. THE CLUE ON SHELF 45                     42
+
+        V. PHYLLIS DODGE, SMUGGLER EXTRAORDINARY    57
+
+       VI. A MATTER OF RECORD                       73
+
+      VII. THE SECRET STILL                         88
+
+     VIII. THE TAXICAB TANGLE                      103
+
+       IX. A MATCH FOR THE GOVERNMENT              118
+
+        X. THE GIRL AT THE SWITCHBOARD             133
+
+       XI. "LOST--$100,000!"                       149
+
+      XII. "THE DOUBLE CODE"                       164
+
+     XIII. THE TRAIL OF THE WHITE MICE             180
+
+      XIV. WAH LEE AND THE FLOWER OF HEAVEN        195
+
+       XV. THE MAN WITH THREE WIVES                210
+
+      XVI. AFTER SEVEN YEARS                       225
+
+     XVII. THE POISON-PEN PUZZLE                   239
+
+    XVIII. THIRTY THOUSAND YARDS OF SILK           254
+
+      XIX. THE CLUE IN THE CLASSIFIED COLUMN       268
+
+       XX. IN THE SHADOW OF THE CAPITOL            283
+
+      XXI. A MILLION-DOLLAR QUARTER                298
+
+     XXII. "THE LOOTING OF THE C. T. C."           313
+
+    XXIII. THE CASE OF MRS. ARMITAGE               328
+
+     XXIV. FIVE INCHES OF DEATH                    343
+
+
+
+
+ON SECRET SERVICE
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A FLASH IN THE NIGHT
+
+
+We were sitting in the lobby of the Willard, Bill Quinn and I, watching
+the constant stream of politicians, pretty women, and petty office
+seekers who drift constantly through the heart of Washington.
+
+Suddenly, under his breath, I heard Quinn mutter, "Hello!" and,
+following his eyes, I saw a trim, dapper, almost effeminate-looking chap
+of about twenty-five strolling through Peacock Alley as if he didn't
+have a care in the world.
+
+"What's the matter?" I inquired. "Somebody who oughtn't to be here?"
+
+"Not at all. He's got a perfect right to be anywhere he pleases, but I
+didn't know he was home. Last time I heard of him he was in Seattle,
+mixed up with those riots that Ole Hanson handled so well."
+
+"Bolshevist?"
+
+"Hardly," and Quinn smiled. "Don't you know Jimmy Callahan? Well, it's
+scarcely the province of a Secret Service man to impress his face upon
+everyone ... the secret wouldn't last long. No, Jimmy was working on the
+other end of the Seattle affair. Trying to locate the men behind the
+move--and I understand he did it fairly well, too. But what else would
+you expect from the man who solved that submarine tangle in Norfolk?"
+
+Quinn must have read the look of interest in my face, for he continued,
+almost without a pause: "Did you ever hear the inside of that case? One
+of the most remarkable in the whole history of the Secret Service, and
+that's saying a good deal. I don't suppose it would do any harm to spill
+it, so let's move over there in a corner and I'll relate a few details
+of a case where the second hand of a watch played a leading role."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The whole thing started back in the spring of 1918 [said Quinn, who held
+down a soft berth in the Treasury Department as a reward for a game leg
+obtained during a counterfeiting raid on Long Island].
+
+Along about then, if you remember, the Germans let loose a lot of
+boasting statements as to what they were going to do to American ships
+and American shipping. Transports were going to be sunk, commerce
+crippled and all that sort of thing. While not a word of it got into the
+papers, there were a bunch of people right here in Washington who took
+these threats seriously--for the Hun's most powerful weapon appeared to
+be in his submarines, and if a fleet of them once got going off the
+coast we'd lose a lot of valuable men and time landing them.
+
+Then came the sinking of the _Carolina_ and those other ships off the
+Jersey coast. Altogether it looked like a warm summer.
+
+One afternoon the Chief sent for Callahan, who'd just come back from
+taking care of some job down on the border, and told him his troubles.
+
+"Jimmy," said the Chief, "somebody on this side is giving those damn
+Huns a whole lot of information that they haven't any business getting.
+You know about those boats they've sunk already, of course. They're
+only small fry. What they're laying for is a transport, another
+_Tuscania_ that they can stab in the dark and make their getaway. The
+point that's worrying us is that the U-boats must be getting their
+information from some one over here. The sinking of the _Carolina_
+proves that. No submarine, operating on general cruising orders, could
+possibly have known when that ship was due or what course she was going
+to take. Every precaution was taken at San Juan to keep her sailing a
+secret, but of course you can't hide every detail of that kind. She got
+out. Some one saw her, wired the information up the coast here and the
+man we've got to nab tipped the U-boat off.
+
+"Of course we could go at it from Porto Rico, but that would mean
+wasting a whole lot more time than we can afford. It's not so much a
+question of the other end of the cable as it is who transmitted the
+message to the submarine--and how!
+
+"It's your job to find out before they score a real hit."
+
+Callahan, knowing the way things are handled in the little suite on the
+west side of the Treasury Building, asked for the file containing the
+available information and found it very meager indeed.
+
+Details of the sinking of the _Carolina_ were included, among them the
+fact that the _U-37_ had been waiting directly in the path of the
+steamer, though the latter was using a course entirely different from
+the one the New York and Porto Rico S. S. Company's boats generally
+took. The evidence of a number of passengers was that the submarine
+didn't appear a bit surprised at the size of her prey, but went about
+the whole affair in a businesslike manner. The meat of the report was
+contained in the final paragraph, stating that one of the German
+officers had boasted that they "would get a lot more ships in the same
+way," adding, "Don't worry--we'll be notified when they are going to
+sail."
+
+Of course, Callahan reasoned, this might be simply a piece of Teutonic
+bravado--but there was more than an even chance that it was the truth,
+particularly when taken in conjunction with the sinking of the _Texel_
+and the _Pinar del Rio_ and the fact that the _Carolina's_ course was so
+accurately known.
+
+But how in the name of Heaven had they gotten their information?
+
+Callahan knew that the four principal ports of embarkation for
+troops--Boston, New York, Norfolk, and Charleston--were shrouded in a
+mantle of secrecy which it was almost impossible to penetrate. Some
+months before, when he had been working on the case which grew out of
+the disappearance of the plans of the battleship _Pennsylvania_, he had
+had occasion to make a number of guarded inquiries in naval circles in
+New York, and he recalled that it had been necessary not only to show
+his badge, but to submit to the most searching scrutiny before he was
+allowed to see the men he wished to reach. He therefore felt certain
+that no outsider could have dug up the specific information in the short
+space of time at their disposal.
+
+But, arguing that it had been obtained, the way in which it had been
+passed on to the U-boat also presented a puzzle.
+
+Was there a secret submarine base on the coast?
+
+Had some German, more daring than the rest, actually come ashore and
+penetrated into the very lines of the Service?
+
+Had he laid a plan whereby he could repeat this operation as often as
+necessary?
+
+Or did the answer lie in a concealed wireless, operating upon
+information supplied through underground channels?
+
+These were only a few of the questions which raced through Callahan's
+mind. The submarine base he dismissed as impracticable. He knew that the
+_Thor_, the _Unita_, the _Macedonia_, and nine other vessels had, at the
+beginning of the war, cleared from American ports under false papers
+with the intention of supplying German warships with oil, coal, and
+food. He also knew that, of the million and a half dollars' worth of
+supplies, less than one-sixth had ever been transshipped. Therefore,
+having failed so signally here, the Germans would hardly try the same
+scheme again.
+
+The rumor that German officers had actually come into New York, where
+they were supposed to have been seen in a theater, was also rather
+far-fetched. So the wireless theory seemed to be the most tenable. But
+even a wireless cannot conceal its existence from the other stations
+indefinitely. Of course, it was possible that it might be located on
+some unfrequented part of the coast--but then how could the operator
+obtain the information which he transmitted to the U-boat?
+
+Callahan gave it up in despair--for that night. He was tired and he felt
+that eight hours' sleep would do him more good than thrashing around
+with a problem for which there appeared to be no solution; a problem
+which, after all, he couldn't even be sure existed.
+
+Maybe, he thought, drowsily, as he turned off the light--maybe the
+German on the U-boat was only boasting, after all--or, maybe....
+
+The first thing Jimmy did the next morning was to call upon the head of
+the recently organized Intelligence Bureau of the War Department--not
+the Intelligence Division which has charge of censorship and the
+handling of news, but the bureau which bears the same relation to the
+army that the Secret Service does to the Treasury Department.
+
+"From what ports are transports sailing within the next couple of
+weeks?" he inquired of the officer in charge.
+
+"From Boston, New York, Norfolk, and Charleston," was the reply--merely
+confirming Callahan's previous belief. He had hoped that the ground
+would be more limited, because he wanted to have the honor of solving
+this problem by himself, and it was hardly possible for him to cover the
+entire Atlantic Coast.
+
+"Where's the biggest ship sailing from?" was his next question.
+
+"There's one that clears Norfolk at daylight on Monday morning with
+twelve thousand men aboard...."
+
+"Norfolk?" interrupted Callahan. "I thought most of the big ones left
+from New York or Boston."
+
+"So they do, generally. But these men are from Virginia and North
+Carolina. Therefore it's easier to ship them right out of Norfolk--saves
+time and congestion of the railroads. As it happens, the ship they're
+going on is one of the largest that will clear for ten days or more. All
+of the other big ones are on the other side."
+
+"Then," cut in Callahan, "if the Germans wanted to make a ten-strike
+they'd lay for that boat?"
+
+"They sure would--and one torpedo well placed would make the _Tuscania_
+look like a Sunday-school picnic. But what's the idea? Got a tip that
+the Huns are going to try to grab her?"
+
+"No, not a tip," Callahan called back over his shoulder, for he was
+already halfway out of the door; "just a hunch--and I'm going to play it
+for all it's worth!"
+
+The next morning, safely ensconced at the Monticello under the name of
+"Robert P. Oliver, of Williamsport, Pa." Callahan admitted to himself
+that he was indeed working on nothing more than a "hunch," and not a
+very well-defined one at that. The only point that appeared actually to
+back up his theory that the information was coming from Norfolk was the
+fact that the U-boat was known to be operating between New York and the
+Virginia capes. New York itself was well guarded and the surrounding
+country was continually patrolled by operatives of all kinds. It was the
+logical point to watch, and therefore it would be much more difficult to
+obtain and transmit information there than it would be in the vicinity
+of Norfolk, where military and naval operations were not conducted on as
+large a scale nor with as great an amount of secrecy.
+
+Norfolk, Callahan found, was rather proud of her new-found glory. For
+years she had basked in the social prestige of the Chamberlin, the
+annual gathering of the Fleet at Hampton Roads and the military pomp and
+ceremony attendant upon the operations of Fortress Monroe. But the war
+had brought a new thrill. Norfolk was now one of the principal ports of
+embarkation for the men going abroad. Norfolk had finally taken her rank
+with New York and Boston--the rank to which her harbor entitled her.
+
+Callahan reached Norfolk on Wednesday morning. The _America_, according
+to the information he had received from the War Department, would clear
+at daybreak Monday--but at noon on Saturday the Secret Service operative
+had very little more knowledge than when he arrived. He had found that
+there was a rumor to the effect that two U-boats were waiting off the
+Capes for the transport, which, of course, would have the benefit of the
+usual convoy.
+
+"But," as one army officer phrased it, "what's the use of a convoy if
+they know just where you are? Germany would willingly lose a sub. or two
+to get us, and, with the sea that's been running for the past ten days,
+there'd be no hope of saving more than half the boys."
+
+Spurred by the rapidity with which time was passing and the fact that he
+sensed a thrill of danger--an intuition of impending peril--around the
+_America_, Callahan spent the better part of Friday night and all
+Saturday morning running down tips that proved to be groundless. A man
+with a German name was reported to be working in secret upon some
+invention in an isolated house on Willoughby Spit; a woman, concerning
+whom little was known, had been seen frequently in the company of two
+lieutenants slated to sail on the _America_; a house in Newport News
+emitted strange "clacking" sounds at night.
+
+But the alleged German proved to be a photographer of unassailable
+loyalty, putting in extra hours trying to develop a new process of color
+printing. The woman came from one of the oldest families in Richmond and
+had known the two lieutenants for years. The house in Newport News
+proved to be the residence of a young man who hoped some day to sell a
+photoplay scenario, the irregular clacking noise being made by a
+typewriter operated none too steadily.
+
+"That's what happens to most of the 'clues' that people hand you,"
+Callahan mused as he sat before his open window on Saturday evening,
+with less than thirty-six hours left before the _America_ was scheduled
+to leave. "Some fellows have luck with them, but I'll be hanged if I
+ever did. Here I'm working in the dark on a case that I'm not even
+positive exists. That infernal submarine may be laying off Boston at
+this minute, waiting for the ship that leaves there Tuesday. Maybe they
+don't get any word from shore at all.... Maybe they just...."
+
+But here he was brought up with a sudden jar that concentrated all his
+mental faculties along an entirely different road.
+
+Gazing out over the lights of the city, scarcely aware that he saw them,
+his subconscious mind had been following for the past three minutes
+something apparently usual, but in reality entirely out of the ordinary.
+
+"By George!" he muttered, "I wonder...."
+
+Then, taking his watch from his pocket, his eyes alternated between a
+point several blocks distant--a point over the roofs of the houses--and
+the second hand of his timepiece. Less than a minute elapsed before he
+reached for a pencil and commenced to jot down dots and dashes on the
+back of an envelope. When, a quarter of an hour later, he found that the
+dashes had become monotonous--as he expected they would--he reached for
+the telephone and asked to be connected with the private wire of the
+Navy Department in Washington.
+
+"Let me speak to Mr. Thurber at once," he directed. "Operative Callahan,
+S. S., speaking.... Hello! that you, Thurber?... This is Callahan. I'm
+in Norfolk and I want to know whether you can read this code. You can
+figure it out if anybody can. Ready?... Dash, dash, dash, dot, dash,
+dash, dot--" and he continued until he had repeated the entire series of
+symbols that he had plucked out of the night.
+
+"Sounds like a variation of the International Morse," came the comment
+from the other end of the wire--from Thurber, librarian of the Navy
+Department and one of the leading American authorities on code and
+ciphers. "May take a little time to figure it out, but it doesn't look
+difficult. Where can I reach you?"
+
+"I'm at the Monticello--name of Robert P. Oliver. Put in a call for me
+as soon as you see the light on it. I've got something important to do
+right now," and he hung up without another word.
+
+A quick grab for his hat, a pat under his arm, to make sure that the
+holster holding the automatic was in place, and Callahan was on his way
+downstairs.
+
+Once in the street, he quickened his pace and was soon gazing skyward at
+the corner of two deserted thoroughfares not many blocks from the
+Monticello. A few minutes' consultation with his watch confirmed his
+impression that everything was right again and he commenced his search
+for the night watchman.
+
+"Who," he inquired of that individual, "has charge of the operation of
+that phonograph sign on the roof?"
+
+"Doan know fuh certain, suh, but Ah think it's operated by a man down
+the street a piece. He's got charge of a bunch of them sort o' things.
+Mighty funny kinder way to earn a livin', Ah calls it--flashing on an'
+off all night long...."
+
+"But where's he work from?" interrupted Callahan, fearful that the
+negro's garrulousness might delay him unduly.
+
+"Straight down this street three blocks, suh. Then turn one block to yo'
+left and yo' cain't miss the place. Electrical Advertisin' Headquarters
+they calls it. Thank you, suh," and Callahan was gone almost before the
+watchman could grasp the fact that he held a five-dollar bill instead of
+a dollar, as he thought.
+
+It didn't take the Secret Service man long to locate the place he
+sought, and on the top floor he found a dark, swarthy individual bending
+over the complicated apparatus which operated a number of the electric
+signs throughout the city. Before the other knew it, Callahan was in the
+room--his back to the door and his automatic ready for action.
+
+"Up with your hands!" snapped Callahan. "Higher! That's better. Now tell
+me where you got that information you flashed out to sea to-night by
+means of that phonograph sign up the street. Quick! I haven't any time
+to waste."
+
+"_Si, si, senor_," stammered the man who faced him. "But I understand
+not the English very well."
+
+"All right," countered Callahan. "Let's try it in Spanish," and he
+repeated his demands in that language.
+
+Volubly the Spaniard--or Mexican, as he later turned out to
+be--maintained that he had received no information, nor had he
+transmitted any. He claimed his only duty was to watch the "drums" which
+operated the signs mechanically.
+
+"No drum in the world could make that sign flash like it did to-night,"
+Callahan cut in. "For more than fifteen minutes you sent a variation of
+the Morse code seaward. Come on--I'll give you just one minute to tell
+me, or I'll bend this gun over your head."
+
+Before the minute had elapsed, the Mexican commenced his confession. He
+had been paid a hundred dollars a week, he claimed, to flash a certain
+series of signals every Saturday night, precisely at nine o'clock. The
+message itself--a series of dots and dashes which he produced from his
+pocket as evidence of his truthfulness--had reached him on Saturday
+morning for the two preceding weeks. He didn't know what it meant. All
+he did was to disconnect the drum which operated the sign and move the
+switch himself. Payment for each week's work, he stated, was inclosed
+with the next week's message. Where it came from he didn't know, but the
+envelope was postmarked Washington.
+
+With his revolver concealed in his coat pocket, but with its muzzle in
+the small of the Mexican's back, Callahan marched his captive back to
+the hotel and up into his room. As he opened the door the telephone rang
+out, and, ordering the other to stand with his face to the wall in a
+corner--"and be damn sure not to make a move"--the government agent
+answered the call. As he expected, it was Thurber.
+
+"The code's a cinch," came the voice over the wire from Washington. "But
+the message is infernally important. It's in German, and evidently you
+picked it up about two sentences from the start. The part you gave me
+states that the transport _America_, with twelve thousand men aboard,
+will leave Norfolk at daylight Monday. The route the ship will take is
+distinctly stated, as is the personnel of her convoy. Where'd you get
+the message?"
+
+"Flashes in the night," answered Callahan. "I noticed that an electric
+sign wasn't behaving regularly--so I jotted down its signals and passed
+them on to you. The next important point is whether the message is
+complete enough for you to reconstruct the code. Have you got all the
+letters?"
+
+"Yes, every one of them."
+
+"Then take down this message, put it into that dot-and-dash code and
+send it to me by special messenger on one of the navy torpedo boats
+to-night. It's a matter of life and death to thousands of men!" and
+Callahan dictated three sentences over the wire. "Got that?" he
+inquired. "Good! Get busy and hurry it down. I've got to have it in the
+morning."
+
+"Turn around," he directed the Mexican, as he replaced the receiver.
+"Were you to send these messages only on Saturday night?"
+
+"_Si, senor._ Save that I was told that there might be occasions when I
+had to do the same thing on Sunday night, too."
+
+"At nine o'clock?"
+
+"_Si, senor._"
+
+Callahan smiled. Things were breaking better than he had dared hope. It
+meant that the U-boat would be watching for the signal the following
+night. Then, with proper emphasis of the automatic, he gave the Mexican
+his orders. He was to return to his office with Callahan and go about
+his business as usual, with the certainty that if he tried any
+foolishness the revolver could act more quickly than he. Accompanied by
+the government agent, he was to come back to the Monticello and spend
+the night in Callahan's room, remaining there until the next evening
+when he would--promptly at nine o'clock and under the direction of an
+expert in telegraphy--send the message which Callahan would hand him.
+
+That's practically all there is to the story.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"All?" I echoed, when Quinn paused. "What do you mean, 'all'? What was
+the message Callahan sent? What happened to the Mexican? Who sent the
+letter and the money from Washington?"
+
+"Nothing much happened to the Mexican," replied my informant, with a
+smile. "They found that he was telling the truth, so they just sent him
+over the border with instructions not to show himself north of the Rio
+Grande. As for the letter--that took the Post Office, the Department of
+Justice, and the Secret Service the better part of three months to
+trace. But they finally located the sender, two weeks after she (yes, it
+was a woman, and a darned pretty one at that) had made her getaway. I
+understand they got her in England and sentenced her to penal servitude
+for some twenty years or more. In spite of the war, the Anglo-Saxon race
+hasn't completely overcome its prejudice against the death penalty for
+women."
+
+"But the message Callahan sent?" I persisted.
+
+"That was short and to the point. As I recall it, it ran something like
+this: 'Urgent--Route of _America_ changed. She clears at daylight, but
+takes a course exactly ten miles south of one previously stated. Be
+there."
+
+"The U-boat was there, all right. But so were four hydroplanes and half
+a dozen destroyers, all carrying the Stars and Stripes!"
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+THE MINT MYSTERY
+
+
+"Mr Drummond! Wire for Mr. Drummond! Mr. Drummond, please!"
+
+It was the monotonous, oft-repeated call of a Western Union
+boy--according to my friend Bill Quinn, formerly of the United States
+Secret Service--that really was responsible for solving the mystery
+which surrounded the disappearance of $130,000 in gold from the
+Philadelphia Mint.
+
+"The boy himself didn't have a thing to do with the gold or the finding
+of it," admitted Quinn, "but his persistence was responsible for
+locating Drummond, of the Secret Service, just as he was about to start
+on a well-earned vacation in the Maine woods. Uncle Sam's sleuths don't
+get any too much time off, you know, and a month or so in a part of the
+world where they don't know anything about international intrigues and
+don't care about counterfeiting is a blessing not to be despised.
+
+"That's the reason the boy had to be persistent when he was paging
+Drummond.
+
+"The operative had a hunch that it was a summons to another case and he
+was dog tired. But the boy kept singing out the name through the train
+and finally landed his man, thus being indirectly responsible for the
+solution of a mystery that might have remained unsolved for weeks--and
+incidentally saved the government nearly every cent of the one hundred
+and thirty thousand dollars."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Drummond opened the telegram [continued Quinn] he found that it was
+a summons to Philadelphia, signed by Hamlin, Assistant Secretary of the
+Treasury.
+
+"Preston needs you at once. Extremely important," read the wire--and, as
+Drummond was fully aware that Preston was Director of the United States
+Mint, it didn't take much deduction to figure that something had gone
+wrong in the big building on Spring Garden Street where a large part of
+the country's money is coined.
+
+But even the lure of the chase--something you read a lot about in
+detective stories, but find too seldom in the real hard work of tracing
+criminals--did not offset Drummond's disappointment in having to defer
+his vacation. Grumbling, he gathered his bags and cut across New York to
+the Pennsylvania Station, where he was fortunate enough to be able to
+make a train on the point of leaving for Philadelphia. At the Mint he
+found Director Preston and Superintendent Bosbyshell awaiting him.
+
+"Mr. Hamlin wired that he had instructed you to come up at once," said
+the director. "But we had hardly hoped that you could make it so soon."
+
+"Wire reached me on board a train that would have pulled out of Grand
+Central Station in another three minutes," growled Drummond. "I was on
+my way to Maine to forget all about work for a month. But," and his face
+broke into a smile, "since they did find me, what's the trouble?"
+
+"Trouble enough," replied the director. "Some hundred and thirty
+thousand dollars in gold is missing from the Mint!"
+
+"What!" Even Drummond was shaken out of his professional calm, not to
+mention his grouch. Robbery of the United States Treasury or one of the
+government Mints was a favorite dream with criminals, but--save for the
+memorable occasion when a gang was found trying to tunnel under
+Fifteenth Street in Washington--there had been no time when the scheme
+was more than visionary.
+
+"Are you certain? Isn't there any chance for a mistake?"
+
+The questions were perfunctory, rather than hopeful.
+
+"Unfortunately, not the least," continued Preston. "Somebody has made
+away with a hundred and thirty thousand dollars worth of the
+government's money. Seven hundred pounds of gold is missing and there
+isn't a trace to show how or where it went. The vault doors haven't been
+tampered with. The combination of the grille inside the vault is intact.
+Everything, apparently, is as it should be--but fifty bars of gold are
+missing."
+
+"And each bar," mused Drummond, "weighs--"
+
+"Fourteen pounds," cut in the superintendent.
+
+Drummond looked at him in surprise.
+
+"I beg your pardon," said Preston. "This is Mr. Bosbyshell,
+superintendent of the Mint. This thing has gotten on my nerves so that I
+didn't have the common decency to introduce you. Mr. Bosbyshell was with
+me when we discovered that the gold was missing."
+
+"When was that?"
+
+"Yesterday afternoon," replied the director. "Every now and then--at
+irregular intervals--we weigh all the gold in the Mint, to make sure
+that everything is as it should be. Nothing wrong was discovered until
+we reached Vault Six, but there fifty bars were missing. There wasn't
+any chance of error. The records showed precisely how much should have
+been there and the scales showed how much there was, to the fraction of
+an ounce.
+
+"But even if we had only counted the bars, instead of weighing each one
+separately, the theft would have been instantly discovered, for the
+vault contained exactly fifty bars less than it should have. It was then
+that I wired Washington and asked for assistance from the Secret
+Service."
+
+"Thus spoiling my vacation," muttered Drummond. "How many men know the
+combination to the vault door?"
+
+"Only two," replied the superintendent. "Cochrane, who is the official
+weigher, and myself. Cochrane is above suspicion. He's been here for the
+past thirty years and there hasn't been a single complaint against him
+in all that time."
+
+Drummond looked as if he would like to ask Preston if the same could be
+said for the superintendent, but he contented himself with listening as
+Bosbyshell continued:
+
+"But even if Cochrane or I--yes, I'm just as much to be suspected as
+he--could have managed to open the vault door unseen, we could not have
+gotten inside the iron grille which guards the gold in the interior of
+the vault. That is always kept locked, with a combination known to two
+other men only. There's too much gold in each one of these vaults to
+take any chance with, which is the reason for this double protection.
+Two men--Cochrane and I--handle the combination to the vault door and
+open it whenever necessary. Two others--Jamison and Strubel--are the
+only ones that know how to open the grille door. One of them has to be
+present whenever the bars are put in or taken away, for the men who can
+get inside the vault cannot enter the grille, and the men who can
+manipulate the grille door can't get into the vault."
+
+"It certainly sounds like a burglar-proof combination," commented
+Drummond. "Is there any possibility for conspiracy between"--and he
+hesitated for the fraction of a second--"between Cochrane and either of
+the men who can open the grille door?"
+
+"Apparently not the least in the world," replied Preston. "So far as we
+know they are all as honest as the day--"
+
+"But the fact remains," Drummond interrupted, "that the gold is
+missing."
+
+"Exactly--but the grille door was sealed with the official governmental
+stamp when we entered the vault yesterday. That stamp is applied only in
+the presence of both men who know the combination. So the conspiracy, if
+there be any, must have included Cochrane, Strubel, and Jamison--instead
+of being a two-man job."
+
+"How much gold did you say was missing?" inquired the Treasury
+operative, taking another tack.
+
+"Seven hundred pounds--fifty bars of fourteen pounds each," answered
+Bosbyshell. "That's another problem that defies explanation. How could
+one man carry away all that gold without being seen? He'd need a dray to
+cart it off, and we're very careful about what goes out of the Mint.
+There's a guard at the front door all the time, and no one is allowed to
+leave with a package of any kind until it has been examined and passed."
+
+A grunt was Drummond's only comment--and those who knew the Secret
+Service man best would have interpreted the sound to mean studious
+digestion of facts, rather than admission of even temporary defeat.
+
+It was one of the government detective's pet theories that every crime,
+no matter how puzzling, could be solved by application of common-sense
+principles and the rules of logic. "The criminal with brains," he was
+fond of saying, "will deliberately try to throw you off the scent. Then
+you've got to take your time and separate the wheat from the chaff--the
+false leads from the true. But the man who commits a crime on the spur
+of the moment--or who flatters himself that he hasn't left a single clue
+behind--is the one who's easy to catch. The cleverest crook in the world
+can't enter a room without leaving his visiting card in some way or
+other. It's up to you to find that card and read the name on it. And
+common sense is the best reading glass."
+
+Requesting that his mission be kept secret, Drummond said that he would
+like to examine Vault No. Six.
+
+"Let Cochrane open the vault for me and then have Jamison and Strubel
+open the grille," he directed.
+
+"Unless Mr. Bosbyshell opened the vault door," Preston reminded him,
+"there's no one but Cochrane who could do it. It won't be necessary,
+however, to have either of the others open the grille--the door was
+taken from its hinges this morning in order the better to examine the
+place and it hasn't yet been replaced."
+
+"All right," agreed Drummond. "Let's have Cochrane work the outer
+combination, then. I'll have a look at the other two later."
+
+Accompanied by the director and the superintendent, Drummond made his
+way to the basement where they were joined by the official weigher, a
+man well over fifty, who was introduced by Preston to "Mr. Drummond, a
+visitor who is desirous of seeing the vaults."
+
+"I understand that you are the only man who can open them," said the
+detective. "Suppose we look into this one," as he stopped, as if by
+accident, before Vault No. 6.
+
+Cochrane, without a word, bent forward and commenced to twirl the
+combination. A few spins to the right, a few to the left, back to the
+right, to the left once more--and he pulled at the heavy door
+expectantly. But it failed to budge.
+
+Again he bent over the combination, spinning it rapidly. Still the door
+refused to open.
+
+"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to help me with this, Superintendent,"
+Cochrane said, finally. "It doesn't seem to work, somehow."
+
+But, under Bosbyshell's manipulation, the door swung back almost
+instantly.
+
+"Nothing wrong with the combination," commented Preston.
+
+Drummond smiled. "Has the combination been changed recently?" he asked.
+
+"Not for the past month," Bosbyshell replied. "We usually switch all of
+them six times a year, just as a general precaution--but this has been
+the same for the past few weeks. Ever since the fifteenth of last month,
+to be precise."
+
+Inside the vault Drummond found that, as Preston had stated, the door to
+the grille had been taken from its hinges, to facilitate the work of the
+men who had weighed the gold, and had not been replaced.
+
+"Where are the gold bars?" asked the detective. "The place looks like it
+had been well looted."
+
+"They were all taken out this morning, to be carefully weighed," was
+Preston's reply.
+
+"I'd like to see some of them stacked up there along the side of the
+grille, if it isn't too much trouble."
+
+"Surely," said Bosbyshell. "I'll have the men bring them in at once."
+
+As soon as the superintendent had left the room, Drummond requested that
+the door of the grille be placed in its usual position, and Cochrane set
+it up level with the floor, leaning against the supports at the side.
+
+"Is that the way it always stays?" inquired the Secret Service man.
+
+"No, sir, but it's pretty heavy to handle, and I thought you just wanted
+to get a general idea of things."
+
+"I'd like to see it in place, if you don't mind. Here, I'll help you
+with it--but we better slip our coats off, for it looks like a
+man's-sized job," and he removed his coat as he spoke.
+
+After Cochrane had followed his example, the two of them hung the heavy
+door from its hinges and stepped back to get the effect. But Drummond's
+eyes were fixed, not upon the entrance to the grille, but on the middle
+of Cochrane's back, and, when the opportunity offered an instant later,
+he shifted his gaze to the waist of the elder man's trousers. Something
+that he saw there caused the shadow of a smile to flit across his face.
+
+"Thanks," he said. "That will do nicely," and he made a quick gesture to
+Preston that he would like to have Cochrane leave the vault.
+
+"Very much obliged, Mr. Cochrane," said the director. "We won't bother
+you any more. You might ask those men to hurry in with the bars, if you
+will."
+
+And the weigher, pausing only to secure his coat, left the vault.
+
+"Why all the stage setting?" inquired Preston. "You don't suspect...."
+
+"I don't suspect a thing," Drummond smiled, searching for his own coat,
+"beyond the fact that the solution to the mystery is so simple as to be
+almost absurd. By the way, have you noticed those scratches on the bars
+of the grille, about four feet from the floor?"
+
+"No, I hadn't," admitted the director. "But what of them? These vaults
+aren't new, you know, and I dare say you'd find similar marks on the
+grille bars in any of the others."
+
+"I hope not," Drummond replied, grimly, "for that would almost
+certainly mean a shortage of gold in other sections of the Mint.
+Incidentally, has all the rest of the gold been weighed?"
+
+"Every ounce of it."
+
+"Nothing missing?"
+
+"Outside of the seven hundred pounds from this vault, not a particle."
+
+"Good--then I'll be willing to lay a small wager that you can't find the
+duplicates of these scratches anywhere else in the Mint." And Drummond
+smiled at the director's perplexity.
+
+When the men arrived with a truck loaded with gold bars, they stacked
+them--at the superintendent's direction--along the side of the grille
+nearest the vault entrance.
+
+"Is that the way they are usually arranged?" inquired Drummond.
+
+"Yes--the grille bars are of tempered steel and the openings between
+them are too small to permit anyone to put his hand through. Therefore,
+as we are somewhat pressed for space, we stack them up right along the
+outer wall of the grille and then work back. It saves time and labor in
+bringing them in."
+
+"Is this the way the door of the grille ordinarily hangs?"
+
+Bosbyshell inspected it a moment before he replied.
+
+"Yes," he said. "It appears to be all right. It was purposely made to
+swing clear of the floor and the ceiling so that it might not become
+jammed. The combination and the use of the seal prevents its being
+opened by anyone who has no business in the grille."
+
+"And the seal was intact when you came in yesterday afternoon?"
+
+"It was."
+
+"Thanks," said Drummond; "that was all I wanted to know," and he made
+his way upstairs with a smile which seemed to say that his vacation in
+the Maine woods had not been indefinitely postponed.
+
+Once back in the director's office, the government operative asked
+permission to use the telephone, and, calling the Philadelphia office of
+the Secret Service, requested that three agents be assigned to meet him
+down town as soon as possible.
+
+"Have you a record of the home address of the people employed in the
+Mint?" Drummond inquired of the director, as he hung up the receiver.
+
+"Surely," said Preston, producing a typewritten list from the drawer of
+his desk.
+
+"I'll borrow this for a while, if I may. I'll probably be back with it
+before three o'clock--and bring some news with me, too," and the
+operative was out of the room before Preston could frame a single
+question.
+
+As a matter of fact, the clock in the director's office pointed to
+two-thirty when Drummond returned, accompanied by the three men who had
+been assigned to assist him.
+
+"Have you discovered anything?" Preston demanded.
+
+"Let's have Cochrane up here first," Drummond smiled. "I can't be
+positive until I've talked to him. You might have the superintendent in,
+too. He'll be interested in developments, I think."
+
+Bosbyshell was the first to arrive, and, at Drummond's request, took up
+a position on the far side of the room. As soon as he had entered, two
+of the other Secret Service men ranged themselves on the other side of
+the doorway and, the moment Cochrane came in, closed the door behind
+him.
+
+"Cochrane," said Drummond, "what did you do with the seven hundred
+pounds of gold that you took from Vault No. Six during the past few
+weeks?"
+
+"What--what--" stammered the weigher.
+
+"There's no use bluffing," continued the detective. "We've got the goods
+on you. The only thing missing is the gold itself, and the sooner you
+turn it over the more lenient the government will be with you. I know
+how you got the bars out of the grille--a piece of bent wire was
+sufficient to dislodge them from the top of the pile nearest the grille
+bars and it was easy to slip them under the door. No wonder the seal was
+never tampered with. It wasn't necessary for you to go inside the grille
+at all.
+
+"But, more than that, I know how you carried the bars, one at a time,
+out of the Mint. It took these three men less than an hour this
+afternoon to find the tailor who fixed the false pocket in the front of
+your trousers--the next time you try a job of this kind you better
+attend to all these details yourself--and it needed only one look at
+your suspenders this morning to see that they were a good deal wider and
+heavier than necessary. That long coat you are in the habit of wearing
+is just the thing to cover up any suspicious bulge in your garments and
+the guard at the door, knowing you, would never think of telling you to
+stop unless you carried a package or something else contrary to orders.
+
+"The people in your neighborhood say that they've seen queer bluish
+lights in the basement of your house on Woodland Avenue. So I suspect
+you've been melting that gold up and hiding it somewhere, ready for a
+quick getaway.
+
+"Yes, Cochrane, we've got the goods on you and if you want to save half
+of a twenty-year sentence--which at your age means life--come across
+with the information. Where is the gold?"
+
+"In the old sewer pipe," faltered the weigher, who appeared to have aged
+ten years while Drummond was speaking. "In the old sewer pipe that
+leads from my basement."
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Drummond. "I think Mr. Preston will use his influence
+with the court to see that your sentence isn't any heavier than
+necessary. It's worth that much to guard the Mint against future losses
+of the same kind, isn't it, Mr. Director?"
+
+"It surely is," replied Preston. "But how in the name of Heaven did you
+get the answer so quickly?"
+
+Drummond delayed his answer until Cochrane, accompanied by the three
+Secret Service men, had left the room. Then--
+
+"Nothing but common sense," he said. "You remember those scratches I
+called your attention to--the ones on the side of the grille bars? They
+were a clear indication of the way in which the gold had been taken from
+the grille--knocked down from the top of the pile with a piece of wire
+and pulled under the door of the grille. That eliminated Jamison and
+Strubel immediately. They needn't have gone to that trouble, even if it
+had been possible for them to get into the vault in the first place.
+
+"But I had my suspicions of Cochrane when he was unable to open the
+vault door. That pointed to nervousness, and nervousness indicated a
+guilty conscience. I made the hanging of the grille door an excuse to
+get him to shed his coat--though I did want to see whether the door came
+all the way down to the floor--and I noted that his suspenders were very
+broad and his trousers abnormally wide around the waist. He didn't want
+to take any chances with that extra fourteen pounds of gold, you know.
+It would never do to drop it in the street.
+
+"The rest is merely corroborative. I found that bluish lights had been
+observed in the basement of Cochrane's house, and one of my men located
+the tailor who had enlarged his trousers. That's really all there was
+to it."
+
+With that Drummond started to the door, only to be stopped by Director
+Preston's inquiry as to where he was going.
+
+"On my vacation, which you interrupted this morning," replied the Secret
+Service man.
+
+"It's a good thing I did," Preston called after him. "If Cochrane had
+really gotten away with that gold we might never have caught him."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Which," as Bill Quinn said, when he finished his narrative, "is the
+reason I claim that the telegraph boy who persisted in paging Drummond
+is the one who was really responsible for the saving of some hundred and
+thirty thousand dollars that belonged to Uncle Sam."
+
+"But, surely," I said, "that case was an exception. In rapidity of
+action, I mean. Don't governmental investigations usually take a long
+time?"
+
+"Frequently," admitted Quinn, "they drag on and on for months--sometimes
+years. But it's seldom that Uncle Sam fails to land his man--even though
+the trail leads into the realms of royalty, as in the Ypiranga case.
+That happened before the World War opened, but it gave the State
+Department a mighty good line on what to expect from Germany."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+THE YPIRANGA CASE
+
+
+"Mexico," said Bill Quinn, who now holds a soft berth in the Treasury
+Department by virtue of an injury received in the line of duty--during a
+raid on counterfeiters a few years ago, to be precise--"is back on the
+first page of the papers again after being crowded off for some four
+years because of the World War. Funny coincidence, that, when you
+remember that it was this same Mexico that gave us our first indication
+of the way we might expect Germany to behave."
+
+"Huh?" I said, a bit startled. "What do you mean? The first spark of the
+war was kindled in Serbia, not Mexico. Outside of the rumblings of the
+Algeciras case and one or two other minor affairs, there wasn't the
+slightest indication of the conflict to come."
+
+"No?" and Quinn's eyebrows went up in interrogation. "How about the
+Ypiranga case?"
+
+"The which?"
+
+"The Ypiranga case--the one where Jack Stewart stumbled across a clue in
+a Mexico City cafe which led all the way to Berlin and back to
+Washington and threatened to precipitate a row before the Kaiser was
+quite ready for it?"
+
+"No," I admitted, "that's a page of underground history that I haven't
+read--and I must confess that I don't know Stewart, either."
+
+"Probably not," said the former Secret Service man. "He wasn't
+connected with any of the branches of the government that get into print
+very often. As a matter of fact, the very existence of the organization
+to which he belonged isn't given any too much publicity. Everyone knows
+of the Secret Service and the men who make the investigations for the
+Department of Justice and the Post-office Department--but the Department
+of State, for obvious reasons, conducts its inquiries in a rather more
+diplomatic manner. Its agents have to pose as commercial investigators,
+or something else equally as prosaic. Their salaries are, as a general
+thing, paid out of the President's private allowance or out of the fund
+given to the department 'for use as it may see fit.' Less than half a
+dozen people know the actual status of the organization or the names of
+its members at any one time, and its exploits are recorded only in the
+archives of the State Department."
+
+"But who," I persisted, as Quinn stopped, "was Jack Stewart and what was
+the nature of the affair upon which he stumbled in Mexico City?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Stewart [replied Quinn] was just a quiet, ordinary sort of chap, the
+kind that you'd expect to find behind a desk in the State Department,
+sorting out consular reports and handling routine stuff. Nothing
+exceptional about him at all--which was probably one reason for his
+being selected for work as a secret agent of the Department. It doesn't
+do, you know, to pick men who are conspicuous, either in their dress or
+manner. Too easy to spot and remember them. The chap who's swallowed up
+in the crowd is the one who can get by with a whole lot of quiet work
+without being suspected.
+
+When they sent Jack down to Mexico they didn't have the slightest idea
+he'd uncover anything as big as he did. The country south of the Rio
+Grande, if you recall, had been none too quiet for some time prior to
+1914. Taft had had his troubles with it ever since the end of the Diaz
+regime, and when Wilson came in the "Mexican question" was a legacy that
+caused the men in the State Department to spend a good many sleepless
+nights.
+
+All sorts of rumors, most of them wild and bloody, floated up through
+official and unofficial channels. The one fact that seemed to be certain
+was that Mexico was none too friendly to the United States, and that
+some other nation was behind this feeling, keeping it constantly stirred
+up and overlooking no opportunity to add fuel to the flame. Three or
+four other members of the State Department's secret organization had
+been wandering around picking up leads for some months past and, upon
+the return of one of these to Washington, Stewart was sent to replace
+him.
+
+His instructions were simple and delightfully indefinite. He was to
+proceed to Mexico City, posing as the investigator for a financial house
+in New York which was on the lookout for a soft concession from the
+Mexican government. This would give him an opportunity to seek the
+acquaintance of Mexican officials and lend an air of plausibility to
+practically any line that he found it necessary to follow. But, once at
+the capital with his alibis well established, he was to overlook nothing
+which might throw light upon the question that had been bothering
+Washington for some time past--just which one of the foreign powers was
+fanning the Mexican unrest and to what lengths it was prepared to go?
+
+Of course, the State Department suspected--just as we now know--that
+Berlin was behind the movement, but at that time there was no indication
+of the reason. In the light of later events, however, the plan is plain.
+Germany, feeling certain that the greatest war Europe had ever known
+was a matter of the immediate future, was laying her plans to keep other
+nations out of the conflict. She figured that Mexico was the best foil
+for the United States and that our pitifully small army would have its
+hands full with troubles at home. If not, she intended to let Japan
+enter into the equation--as shown by the Zimmerman note some two years
+later.
+
+When Stewart got to Mexico City, it did not take him long to discover
+that there was an undercurrent of animosity to the United States which
+made itself felt in numberless ways. Some of the Mexican papers,
+apparently on a stronger financial basis than ever before, were
+outspoken in their criticism of American dollars and American dealings.
+The people as a whole, long dominated by Diaz, were being stirred to
+resentment of the "Gringoes," who "sought to purchase the soul of a
+nation as well as its mineral wealth." The improvements which American
+capital had made were entirely overlooked, and the spotlight of
+subsidized publicity was thrown upon the encroachments of the hated
+Yankees.
+
+All this Stewart reported to Washington, and in reply was politely
+informed that, while interesting, it was hardly news. The State
+Department had known all this for months. The question was: Where was
+the money coming from and what was the immediate object of the game?
+
+"Take your time and don't bother us unless you find something definite
+to report," was the substance of the instructions cabled to Stewart.
+
+The secret agent, therefore, contented himself with lounging around the
+very inviting cafes of the Mexican capital and making friends with such
+officials as might be able to drop scraps of information.
+
+It was November when he first hit Mexico City. It was nearly the middle
+of April before he picked up anything at all worth while. Of course, in
+the meantime he had uncovered a number of leads--but every one of them
+was blind. For a day or two, or a week at most, they would hold out
+glowing promise of something big just around the corner. Then, when he
+got to the end of the rainbow, he would find an empty pail in place of
+the pot of gold he had hoped for.
+
+It wasn't surprising, therefore, that Stewart was growing tired of the
+life of continual mystery, of developments that never developed, of
+secrets that were empty and surprises that faded away into nothing.
+
+It was on the 13th of April, while seated at a little table in front of
+a sidewalk cafe on the Calles de Victoria, that the American agent
+obtained his first real clue to the impending disaster.
+
+When two Mexicans whom he knew by sight, but not by name, sat down at a
+table near his he pricked up his ears purely by instinct, rather than
+through any real hope of obtaining information of value.
+
+The arrival of the usual sugared drinks was followed by a few words of
+guarded conversation, and then one of the Mexicans remarked, in a tone a
+trifle louder than necessary, that "the United States is a nation of
+cowardly women, dollar worshipers who are afraid to fight, and braggarts
+who would not dare to back up their threats."
+
+It was an effort for Stewart to remain immersed in the newspaper propped
+up in front of him. Often as he had heard these sentiments expressed,
+his Southern blood still rose involuntarily--until his logic reminded
+him that his mission was not to start a quarrel, but to end one. He knew
+that no good could ensue from his taking up the challenge, and the very
+fact that the speaker had raised his voice gave him the tip that the
+words were uttered for his especial benefit, to find out whether he
+understood Spanish--for he made no attempt to disguise his nationality.
+
+With a smile which did not show on his lips, Stewart summoned the waiter
+and in atrocious Spanish ordered another glass of lemonade. His complete
+knowledge of the language was the one thing which he had managed to keep
+entirely under cover ever since reaching Mexico, for he figured that the
+natives would speak more freely in his presence if they believed he
+could not gather what they were discussing.
+
+The trick worked to perfection.
+
+"Pig-headed Yankee," commented the Mexican who had first spoken.
+"Lemonade! Pah!--they haven't the nerve to take a man's drink!" and he
+drained his glass of _pulque_ at a single gulp.
+
+The other, who had not spoken above a whisper, raised his glass and
+regarded it in silence for a moment. Then--"Prosit," he said, and drank.
+
+"_Nom di Dio_," warned his companion. "Be careful! The American hog does
+not speak Spanish well enough to understand those who use it fluently,
+but he may speak German."
+
+Stewart smothered a smile behind his paper. Spanish had always been a
+hobby of his--but he only knew about three words in German!
+
+"I understand," continued the Mexican, "that Victoriano is preparing for
+the coup, just as I always figured he would" (Stewart knew that
+"Victoriano" was the familiar form in which the populace referred to
+Victoriano Huerta, self-appointed President of Mexico and the man who
+had steadfastly defied the American government in every way possible,
+taking care not to allow matters to reach such a hot stage that he could
+handle them through diplomatic promises to see that things "improved in
+the future").
+
+"_El Presidente_ has always been careful to protect himself"--the
+speaker went on--"but now that you have brought definite assurance from
+our friends that the money and the arms will be forthcoming within the
+fortnight there is nothing further to fear from the Yankee pigs. It will
+be easy to stir up sentiment against them here overnight, and before
+they can mass their handful of troops along the Rio Grande we will have
+retaken Texas and wiped out the insult of 'forty-eight. What is the
+latest news from the ship?"
+
+"The ----?" inquired the man across the table, but his Teutonic
+intonation of what was evidently a Spanish name was so jumbled that all
+Stewart could catch was the first syllable--something that sounded like
+"_Eep_."
+
+"Is that the name?" asked the Mexican.
+
+"Yes," replied the other. "She sailed from Hamburg on the seventh.
+Allowing two weeks for the passage--she isn't fast, you know--that would
+bring her into Vera Cruz about the twenty-first. Once there, the arms
+can be landed and...."
+
+The events of the next few minutes moved so rapidly that, when Stewart
+had time to catch his breath, he found it difficult to reconstruct the
+affair with accuracy.
+
+He recalled that he had been so interested in the conversation at the
+next table that he had failed to notice the approach of the only other
+man he knew in the State Department's secret organization--Dawson, who
+had been prowling around the West Coast on an errand similar to his.
+Before he knew it Dawson had clapped him on the back and exclaimed:
+"Hello, Jack! Didn't expect to see you here--thought you'd be looking
+over things in the vicinity of the Palace."
+
+The words themselves were innocent enough, but--they were spoken in
+fluent, rapid Spanish and Stewart had shown that he understood!
+
+"_Sapristi!_" hissed the Mexican. "Did you see?" and he bent forward to
+whisper hurriedly to his companion.
+
+Stewart recovered himself instantly, but the damage had been done.
+
+"Hello, Dawson," he answered in English, trusting that the men at the
+next table had not noted his slip. "Sit down and have something? Rotten
+weather, isn't it? And not a lead in sight. These Mexicans seem to be
+afraid to enter into any contract that ties them up more than a
+year--and eighteen revolutions can happen in that time."
+
+As Dawson seated himself, Stewart gave him a hasty sign to be careful.
+Watching the Mexican and his companion out of the corner of his eye, he
+steered the conversation into harmless channels, but a moment later the
+pair at the next table called the waiter, gave some whispered
+instructions, and left.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Dawson.
+
+"Nothing--except that I involuntarily registered a knowledge of Spanish
+when you spoke to me just now, and I've spent several months building up
+a reputation for knowing less about the language than anyone in Mexico
+City. As luck would have it, there was a couple seated at the next table
+who were giving me what sounded like the first real dope I've had since
+I got here. I'll tell you about it later. The question now is to get
+back to the hotel before that precious pair get in their dirty work. A
+code message to Washington is all I ask--but, if I'm not mistaken, we
+are going to have our work cut out for us on the way back."
+
+"Scott! Serious as that, is it?" muttered Dawson. "Well, there are two
+of us and I'd like to see their whole dam' army try to stop us. Let's
+go!"
+
+"Wait a minute," counseled Stewart. "There's no real hurry, for they
+wouldn't dare try to start anything in the open. In case we get
+separated or--if anything should happen--wire the Department in code
+that a vessel with a Spanish name--something that begins with 'Eep'--has
+cleared Hamburg, loaded with guns and ammunition. Expected at Vera Cruz
+about the twenty-first. Germany's behind the whole plot. Now I'll settle
+up and we'll move."
+
+But as he reached for his pocketbook a Mexican swaggering along the
+sidewalk deliberately stumbled against his chair and sent him sprawling.
+Dawson was on his feet in an instant, his fists clenched and ready for
+action.
+
+But Stewart had noted that the Mexican had three companions and that one
+of the men who had occupied the adjoining table was watching the affair
+from a vantage point half a block away.
+
+With a leap that was catlike in its agility, Stewart seized the
+swaggering native by the legs in a football tackle, and upset him
+against his assistants.
+
+"Quick, this way!" he called to Dawson, starting up the street away from
+the watcher at the far corner. As he ran, his hand slipped into his coat
+pocket where the small, but extremely efficient, automatic with which
+all government agents are supplied usually rested. But the gun wasn't
+there! Apparently it had slipped out in the scuffle a moment before.
+
+Hardly had he realized that he was unarmed before he and Dawson were
+confronted by five other natives coming from the opposite direction. The
+meager lighting system of the Mexican capital, however, was rather a
+help than a detriment, for in the struggle which followed it was
+practically impossible to tell friend from foe. The two Americans,
+standing shoulder to shoulder, had the added advantage of
+teamwork--something which the natives had never learned.
+
+"Don't use your gun if you can help it," Stewart warned. "We don't want
+the police in on this!"
+
+As he spoke his fist shot out and the leader of the attacking party
+sprawled in the street. No sound came from Dawson, beyond a grunt, as he
+landed on the man he had singled out of the bunch. The ten seconds that
+followed were jammed with action, punctuated with the shrill cries for
+reinforcements from the Mexicans, and brightened here and there by the
+dull light from down the street which glinted off the long knives--the
+favorite weapon of the Latin-American fighter.
+
+Stewart and Dawson realized that they must not only fight, but fight
+fast. Every second brought closer the arrival of help from the rear, but
+Dawson waited until he could hear the reinforcements almost upon them
+before he gave the word to break through. Then--
+
+"Come on, Jack!" he called. "Let's go!"
+
+Heads down, fists moving with piston-like precision, the two Americans
+plowed their way through. Dawson swore later that he felt at least one
+rib give under the impact of the blows and he knew that he nursed a sore
+wrist for days, but Stewart claimed that his energies were concentrated
+solely on the scrap and that he didn't have time to receive any
+impression of what was going on. He knew that he had to fight his way
+out--that it was essential for one of them to reach the telegraph office
+or the embassy with the news they carried.
+
+It was a case of fight like the devil and trust to luck and the darkness
+for aid.
+
+Almost before they knew it, they had broken through the trio in front of
+them and had turned down the Calles Ancha, running in a form that would
+have done credit to a college track team. Behind them they heard the
+muffled oaths of their pursuers as they fell over the party they had
+just left.
+
+"They don't want to attract the police any more than we do," gasped
+Dawson. "They don't dare shoot!"
+
+But as he spoke there came the z-z-i-pp of a bullet, accompanied by the
+sharp crack of a revolver somewhere behind them.
+
+"Careful," warned Stewart. "We've got to skirt that street light ahead.
+Duck and--"
+
+But with that he crumpled up, a bullet through his hip.
+
+Without an instant's hesitation Dawson stooped, swung his companion over
+his shoulder, and staggered on, his right hand groping for his
+automatic. Once out of the glare of the arc light, he felt that he would
+be safe, at least for a moment.
+
+Then, clattering toward them, he heard a sound that spelled safety--one
+of the open nighthawk cabs that prowl around the streets of the Mexican
+capital.
+
+Shifting Stewart so that his feet rested on the ground, he wheeled and
+raked the street behind him with a fusillade from his automatic. There
+was only a dull mass of whitish clothing some fifty yards away at which
+to aim, but he knew that the counter-attack would probably gain a few
+precious seconds of time--time sufficient to stop the cab and to put his
+plan into operation.
+
+The moment the cab came into the circle of light from the street lamp
+Dawson dragged his companion toward it, seized the horse's bridle with
+his free hand and ordered the driver to halt.
+
+Before the cabby had recovered his wits the two Americans were in the
+vehicle and Dawson had his revolver pressed none too gently into the
+small of the driver's back. The weapon was empty, but the Mexican
+didn't know that, and he responded instantly to Dawson's order to turn
+around and drive "as if seventy devils of Hades were after him!"
+
+Outside of a few stray shots that followed as they disappeared up the
+street, the drive to the Embassy was uneventful, and, once under the
+shelter of the American flag, the rest was easy.
+
+Stewart, it developed, had sustained only a flesh wound through the
+muscles of his hip--painful, but not dangerous. Within ten minutes after
+he had reached O'Shaughnessy's office he was dictating a code wire to
+Washington--a cable which stated that a vessel with a Spanish name,
+commencing with something that sounded like "Eep," had cleared Hamburg
+on the seventh, loaded with arms and ammunition destined to advance the
+interests of Mexican revolutionists and to hamper the efforts of the
+United States to preserve order south of the border.
+
+The wire reached Washington at noon of the following day and was
+instantly transmitted to Berlin, with instructions to Ambassador Gerard
+to look into the matter and report immediately.
+
+     Vessel in question is probably the _Ypiranga_ [stated a code
+     the following morning]. Cleared Hamburg on date mentioned,
+     presumably loaded with grain. Rumors here of large shipment
+     of arms to some Latin American republic. Practically certain
+     that Wilhelmstrasse is behind the move, but impossible to
+     obtain confirmation. Motive unknown.
+
+Ten minutes after this message had been decoded the newspaper
+correspondents at the White House noted that a special Cabinet meeting
+had been called, but no announcement was made of its purpose or of the
+business transacted, beyond the admission that "the insult to the flag
+at Tampico had been considered."
+
+Promptly at noon the great wireless station at Arlington flashed a
+message to Admiral Mayo, in command of the squadron off the Mexican
+coast. In effect, it read:
+
+     Proceed immediately to Vera Cruz. Await arrival of steamer
+     _Ypiranga_, loaded with arms. Prevent landing at any cost.
+     Blockade upon pretext of recent insult to flag. Atlantic
+     Fleet ordered to your support.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The rest of the story," concluded Quinn, "is a matter of history. How
+the fleet bottled up the harbor at Vera Cruz, how it was forced to send
+a landing party ashore under fire, and how seventeen American sailors
+lost their lives during the guerrilla attack which followed. All that
+was spread across the front pages of American papers in big black
+type--but the fact that a steamer named the _Ypiranga_ had been held up
+by the American fleet and forced to anchor at a safe distance offshore,
+under the guns of the flagship, was given little space. Apparently it
+was a minor incident--but in reality it was the crux of the whole
+situation, an indication of Germany's rancor, which was to burst its
+bounds before four months had passed, another case in which the arm of
+Uncle Sam had been long enough to stretch halfway across a continent and
+nip impending disaster."
+
+"But," I inquired, as he paused, "what became of Dawson and Stewart?"
+
+"That I don't know," replied Quinn. "The last time I heard of Jack he
+had a captain's commission in France and was following up his feud with
+the Hun that started in Mexico City four months before the rest of the
+world dreamed of war. Dawson, I believe, is still in the Department, and
+rendered valuable assistance in combating German propaganda in Chile and
+Peru. He'll probably be rewarded with a consular job in some
+out-of-the-way hole, for, now that the war is over, the organization to
+which he belongs will gradually dwindle to its previous small
+proportions.
+
+"Strange, wasn't it, how that pair stumbled across one of the first
+tentacles of the World War in front of a cafe in Mexico City? That's one
+beauty of government detective work--you never know when the monotony is
+going to be blown wide open by the biggest thing you ever happened upon.
+
+"There was little Mary McNilless, who turned up the clue which prevented
+an explosion, compared to which the Black Tom affair would have been a
+Sunday-school party. She never dreamed that she would prevent the loss
+of millions of dollars' worth of property and at least a score of lives,
+but she did--without moving from her desk."
+
+"How?" I asked.
+
+But Quinn yawned, looked at his watch, and said: "That's entirely too
+long a story to spin right now. It's past my bedtime, and Mrs. Quinn's
+likely to be fussy if I'm not home by twelve at least. She says that now
+I have an office job she can at least count on my being round to guard
+the house--something that she never could do before. So let's leave Mary
+for another time. Goodnight"--and he was off.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+THE CLUE ON SHELF 45
+
+
+"Of course, it is possible that patriotism might have prompted Mary
+McNilless to locate the clue which prevented an explosion that would
+have seriously hampered the munitions industry of the United States--but
+the fact remains that she did it principally because she was in love
+with Dick Walters, and Dick happened to be in the Secret Service. It was
+one case where Cupid scored over Mars."
+
+Bill Quinn eased the game leg which he won as the trophy of a
+counterfeiting raid some years before into a more comfortable position,
+reached for his pipe and tobacco pouch, and settled himself for another
+reminiscence of the Service with which he had formerly been actively
+connected.
+
+"Mary was--and doubtless still is--one of those red-headed, blue-eyed
+Irish beauties whom nature has peppered with just enough freckles to
+make them alluring, evidences that the sun itself couldn't help kissing
+her. But, from all I've been able to gather, the sun was in a class by
+itself. Until Dick Walters came upon the scene, Miss McNilless held
+herself strictly aloof from masculine company and much preferred to
+spend an evening with her books than to take a trip to Coney or any of
+the other resorts where a girl's kisses pass as current coin in payment
+for three or four hours' outing.
+
+"Dick was just the kind of chap that would have appealed to Mary, or to
+'most any other girl, for that matter. Maybe you remember him. He used
+to be at the White House during Taft's regime, but they shifted most of
+the force soon after Wilson came in and Dick was sent out to the Coast
+on an opium hunt that kept him busy for more than a year. In fact, he
+came east just in time to be assigned to the von Ewald case--and,
+incidentally, to fall foul of Mary and Cupid, a pair that you couldn't
+tie, much less beat."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The von Ewald case [Quinn continued, after pausing a moment to repack
+his pipe] was one of the many exploits of the Secret Service that never
+got in the papers. To be strictly truthful, it wasn't as much a triumph
+for the S. S. as it was for Mary McNilless--and, besides, we weren't at
+war with Germany at that time, so it had to be kept rather dark.
+
+But Germany was at war with us. You remember the Black Tom explosion in
+August, nineteen sixteen? Well, if the plans of von Ewald and his
+associates hadn't been frustrated by a little red-headed girl with
+exceptional powers of observation, there would have been a detonation in
+Wilmington, Delaware, that would have made the Black Tom affair, with
+its damage of thirty millions of dollars, sound like the college yell of
+a deaf-and-dumb institute.
+
+As far back as January, nineteen sixteen, the Secret Service knew that
+there were a number of Germans in New York who desired nothing so much
+as to hinder the munitions industry of the United States, despite the
+fact that we were a neutral nation.
+
+From Harry Newton, the leader in the second plot to destroy the Welland
+Canal, and from Paul Seib, who was implicated in the attempt to destroy
+shipping at Hoboken, they forced the information that the conspirators
+received their orders and drew their pay from a man of many aliases,
+known to his associates as "Number eight fifty-nine" and occasionally,
+to the world at large, as "von Ewald."
+
+This much was known in Washington--but, when you came to analyze the
+information, it didn't amount to a whole lot. It's one thing to know
+that some one is plotting murder and arson on a wholesale scale, but
+discovering the identity of that individual is an entirely different
+proposition, one which called for all the finesse and obstinacy for
+which the governmental detective services are famous.
+
+Another factor that complicated the situation was that speed was
+essential. The problem was entirely different from a counterfeiting or
+smuggling case, where you can be content to let the people on the other
+side of the table make as many moves as they wish, with the practical
+certainty that you'll land them sooner or later. "Give them plenty of
+rope and they'll land in Leavenworth" is a favorite axiom in the
+Service--but here you had to conserve your rope to the uttermost. Every
+day that passed meant that some new plot was that much nearer
+completion--that millions of dollars in property and the lives of
+no-one-knew-how-many people were still in danger.
+
+So the order went forward from the headquarters of the Service, "Get the
+man known as von Ewald and get him quick!"
+
+Secret Service men, Postal inspectors, and Department of Justice agents
+were called in from all parts of the country and rushed to New York,
+until the metropolis looked like the headquarters of a convention of
+governmental detectives. Grogan, the chap that landed Perry, the
+master-counterfeiter, was there, as were George MacMasters and Sid
+Shields, who prevented the revolution in Cuba three or four years ago.
+Jimmy Reynolds was borrowed from the Internal Revenue Bureau, and
+Althouse, who spoke German like a native, was brought up from the
+border where he had been working on a propaganda case just across the
+line.
+
+There must have been forty men turned loose on this assignment alone,
+and, in the course of the search for von Ewald, there were a number of
+other developments scarcely less important than the main issue. At least
+two of these--the Trenton taxicab tangle and the affair of the girl at
+the switchboard--are exploits worthy of separate mention.
+
+But, in spite of the great array of detective talent, no one could get a
+line on von Ewald.
+
+In April, when Dick Walters returned from the Coast, the other men in
+the Service were frankly skeptical as to whether there was a von Ewald
+at all. They had come to look upon him as a myth, a bugaboo. They
+couldn't deny that there must be some guiding spirit to the Teutonic
+plots, but they rather favored the theory that several men, rather than
+one, were to blame.
+
+Walters' instructions were just like the rest--to go to New York and
+stick on the job until the German conspirator was apprehended.
+
+"Maybe it's one man, maybe there're half a dozen," the chief admitted,
+"but we've got to nail 'em. The very fact that they haven't started
+anything of consequence since the early part of the year would appear to
+point to renewed activity very shortly. It's up to you and the other men
+already in New York to prevent the success of any of these plots."
+
+Walters listened patiently to all the dope that had been gathered and
+then figured, as had every new man, that it was up to him to do a little
+sleuthing of his own.
+
+The headquarters of the German agents was supposed to be somewhere in
+Greenwich Village, on one of those half-grown alleys that always
+threatens to meet itself coming back. But more than a score of
+government operatives had combed that part of the town without securing
+a trace of anything tangible. On the average of once a night the phone
+at headquarters would ring and some one at the other end would send in a
+hurry call for help up in the Bronx or in Harlem or some other distant
+part of the city where he thought he had turned up a clue. The men on
+duty would leap into the machine that always waited at the curb and
+fracture every speed law ever made--only to find, when they arrived,
+that it was a false alarm.
+
+Finally, after several weeks of that sort of thing, conditions commenced
+to get on Dick's nerves.
+
+"I'm going to tackle this thing on my own," he announced. "Luck is going
+to play as much of a part in landing von Ewald as anything else--and
+luck never hunted with more than one man. Good-by! See you fellows
+later."
+
+But it was a good many weeks--August, to be precise--before the men in
+the Federal Building had the opportunity of talking to Walters. He would
+report over the phone, of course, and drop down there every few
+days--but he'd only stay long enough to find out if there was any real
+news or any orders from Washington. Then he'd disappear uptown.
+
+"Dick's sure got a grouch these days," was the comment that went around
+after Walters had paid one of his flying visits.
+
+"Yeh," grunted Barry, who was on duty that night, "either the von Ewald
+case's got on his nerves or he's found a girl that can't see him."
+
+Neither supposition missed the mark very far.
+
+Walters was getting sick and tired of the apparently fruitless chase
+after an elusive German. He had never been known to flinch in the face
+of danger--often went out of his way to find it, in fact--but this
+constant search for a man whom nobody knew, a man of whom there wasn't
+the slightest description, was nerve-racking, to say the least.
+
+Then, too, he had met Mary McNilless.
+
+He'd wandered into the Public Library one evening just before closing
+time, and, like many another man, had fallen victim to Mary's red hair
+and Mary's Irish eyes. But a brick wall was a soft proposition compared
+to Mary McNilless. Snubbing good-looking young men who thought that the
+tailors were missing an excellent model was part of the day's work with
+the little library girl--though she secretly admitted to herself that
+this one was a bit above the average.
+
+Dick didn't get a rise that night, though, or for some days after. Every
+evening at seven found him at the desk over which Miss McNilless
+presided, framing some almost intelligent question about books in order
+to prolong the conversation. Mary would answer politely and--that was
+all.
+
+But, almost imperceptibly, a bond of friendship sprang up between them.
+Maybe it was the fact that Dick's mother had been Irish, too, or
+possibly it was because he admitted to himself that this girl was
+different from the rest, and, admitting it, laid the foundation for a
+deep-souled respect that couldn't help but show in his manner.
+
+Within the month Dick was taking her home, and in six weeks they were
+good pals, bumming around to queer, out-of-the-way restaurants and
+planning outings which Dick, in his heart, knew could never
+materialize--not until von Ewald had been run to cover, at any rate.
+
+Several times Mary tried to find out her companion's
+profession--diplomatically, of course, but nevertheless she was curious.
+Naturally, Dick couldn't tell her. Said he had "just finished a job on
+the Coast and was taking a vacation in New York." But Mary had sense
+enough to know that he wasn't at leisure. Also that he was working on
+something that kept his mind constantly active--for several times he had
+excused himself in a hurry and then returned, anywhere from half an hour
+to an hour later, with a rather crestfallen expression.
+
+After they had reached the "Dick and Mary" stage she came right out one
+night and asked him.
+
+"Hon," he told her, "that's one thing that I've got to keep from you for
+a while. It's nothing that you would be ashamed of, though, but
+something that will make you mighty proud. At least," he added, "It'll
+make you proud if I don't fall down on the job almighty hard. Meanwhile,
+all I can do is to ask you to trust me. Will you?"
+
+The tips of her fingers rested on the back of his hand for just a moment
+before she said, "You know I will, Dick"--and neither of them mentioned
+the subject from that time on.
+
+On the night of the Black Tom explosion, early in August, Dick didn't
+show up at the Library at the usual hour, and, while this didn't worry
+Mary, because it had happened several times before, she began to be
+annoyed when three nights passed the same way. Of course, she had no way
+of knowing that the Service had received a tip from a stool pigeon on
+the pay roll of the New York police force that "a bunch of Germans were
+planning a big explosion of some kind" just a few hours before the earth
+rocked with the force of the blow-up in Jersey. Every government
+operative in the city had been informed of the rumor, but few of them
+had taken it seriously and not one had any reason to expect that the
+plot would culminate so close to New York. But the echo of the first
+blast had hardly died away before there were a dozen agents on the spot,
+weaving a network around the entire district. All they got for their
+pains, however, was a few suspects who very evidently didn't know a
+thing.
+
+So it was a very tired and disgusted Dick who entered the Library four
+nights later and almost shambled up to Mary's desk.
+
+"I'll be off duty in half an hour," she told him. "From the way you
+look, you need a little comforting."
+
+"I do that," he admitted. "Don't make me wait any longer than you have
+to," and he amused himself by glancing over the late seekers after
+knowledge.
+
+When they had finally seated themselves in a cozy corner of a little
+restaurant in the upper Forties, Dick threw caution to the winds and
+told Mary all about his troubles.
+
+"I haven't the least business to do it," he confessed, "and if the chief
+found it out I'd be bounced so fast that it would make my head swim.
+But, in the first place, I want you to marry me, and I know you wouldn't
+think of doing that unless you knew something more about me."
+
+There was just the flicker of a smile around Mary's mouth as she said,
+almost perfunctorily, "No, of course not!" But her intuition told her
+that this wasn't the time to joke, and, before Walters could go on, she
+added, "I know you well enough, Dick, not to worry about that end of
+it."
+
+So Walters told her everything from the beginning--and it didn't take
+more than five minutes at that. Outside of the fact that his people
+lived in Des Moines, that he had been in the Secret Service for eight
+years, and that he hadn't been able to do a thing toward the
+apprehension of a certain German spy that the government was extremely
+anxious to locate, there was pitifully little to tell.
+
+"The whole thing," he concluded, "came to a head the other night--the
+night I didn't show up. We knew that something was going to break,
+somewhere, but we couldn't discover where until it was too late to
+prevent the explosion across the river. Now that they've gotten away
+with that, they'll probably lay their lines for something even bigger."
+
+"Well, now that I've told you, what d'you think?"
+
+"You mean you'd like to marry me?" Mary asked with a smile.
+
+"I don't know how to put it any plainer," Dick admitted--and what
+followed caused the waiter to wheel around and suddenly commence dusting
+off a table that already was bright enough to see your face in.
+
+"There wasn't the slightest clue left after the Black Tom affair?" Mary
+asked, as she straightened her hat.
+
+"Not one. We did find two of the bombs that hadn't exploded--devilishly
+clever arrangements, with a new combination of chemicals. Something was
+evidently wrong with the mixture, though, for they wouldn't go off, even
+when our experts started to play with them. The man who made them
+evidently wasn't quite sure of his ground. But there wasn't a thing
+about the bombs themselves that would provide any indication of where
+they came from."
+
+"The man who made them must have had a pretty thorough knowledge of
+chemistry," Mary mused.
+
+"Mighty near perfect," admitted Walters. "At least six exploded on time,
+and, from what I understand, they were loaded to the muzzle with a
+mixture that no one but an expert would dare handle."
+
+"And," continued Mary, with just a hint of excitement in her voice, "the
+bomb-maker would continue to investigate the subject. He would want to
+get the latest information, the most recent books, the--"
+
+"What are you driving at?" Walters interrupted.
+
+"Just this," and Mary leaned across the table so that there was no
+possibility of being overheard. "We girls have a good deal of time on
+our hands, so we get into the habit of making conjectures and forming
+theories about the 'regulars'--the people who come into the Library
+often enough for us to know them by sight.
+
+"Up to a month ago there was a man who dropped into the reference room
+nearly every day to consult books from Shelf Forty-five. Naturally he
+came up to my desk, and, as he usually arrived during the slack periods,
+I had plenty of time to study him. Maybe it was because I had been
+reading Lombroso, or possibly it's because I am just naturally
+observant, but I noticed that, in addition to each of his ears being
+practically lobeless, one of them was quite pointed at the top--almost
+like a fox's.
+
+"For a week he didn't show up, and then one day another man came in and
+asked for a book from Shelf Forty-five. Just as he turned away I had a
+shock. Apparently he wasn't in the least like the other man in anything
+save height--but neither of his ears had any lobes to speak of and the
+top of them was pointed! When he returned the book I looked him over
+pretty thoroughly and came to the conclusion that, in spite of the fact
+that his general appearance differed entirely from the other man's, they
+were really one and the same!"
+
+"But what," grumbled Walters, "has that to do with the Black Tom
+explosion?"
+
+"The last time this man came to the Library," said Mary, "was two days
+before the night you failed to arrive--two days before the explosion.
+And--Do you know what books are kept on Shelf Forty-five?"
+
+"No. What?"
+
+"The latest works on the chemistry of explosives!"
+
+Walters sat up with a jerk that threatened to overthrow the table.
+
+"Mary," he said, in a whisper, "I've a hunch that you've succeeded where
+all the rest of us fell down! The disguises and the constant reference
+to books on explosives are certainly worth looking into. What name did
+this man give?"
+
+"Names," she corrected. "I don't recall what they were or the addresses,
+either. But it would be easy to find them on the cards. We don't have
+very many calls for books from Shelf Forty-five."
+
+"It doesn't matter, though," and Walters slipped back into his
+disconsolate mood. "He wouldn't leave a lead as open as that, of
+course."
+
+"No, certainly not," agreed Mary. "But the last time he was there he
+asked for Professor Stevens's new book. It hadn't come in then, but I
+told him we expected it shortly. So, unless you men have scared him off,
+he'll be back in a day or two--possibly in a new disguise. Why don't you
+see the librarian, get a place as attendant in the reference room, and
+I'll tip you off the instant I spot that pointed ear. That's one thing
+he can't hide!"
+
+The next morning there was a new employee in the reference room. No one
+knew where he came from and no one--save the librarian and Mary
+McNilless--knew what he was there for, because his principal occupation
+appeared to be lounging around inconspicuously in the neighborhood of
+the information desk. There he stayed for three days, wondering whether
+this clue, like all the rest, would dissolve into thin air.
+
+About five o'clock on the afternoon of the third day a man strolled up
+to Mary's desk and asked if Professor Stevens's book had come in yet. It
+was reposing at that moment on Shelf Forty-five, as Mary well knew, but
+she said she'd see, and left the room, carefully arranging her hair at
+the back of her neck with her left hand--a signal which she and Dick had
+agreed upon the preceding evening.
+
+Before she returned the new attendant had vanished, but Dick Walters, in
+his usual garb, was loitering around the only entrance to the reference
+room, watching the suspect out of the corner of his eye.
+
+"I'm sorry," Mary reported, "but the Stevens book won't be in until
+to-morrow," and she was barely able to keep the anxiety out of her voice
+as she spoke.
+
+Had Dick gotten her signal? Would he be able to trail his man? Could he
+capture him without being injured? These and a score of other questions
+rushed through her mind as she saw the German leave the room. Once
+outside--well, she'd have to wait for Dick to tell her what happened
+then.
+
+The man who was interested in the chemistry of explosives apparently
+wasn't in the least afraid of being followed, for he took a bus uptown,
+alighted at Eighty-third Street, and vanished into one of the
+innumerable small apartment houses in that section of the city. Walters
+kept close behind him, and he entered the lobby of the apartment house
+in time to hear his quarry ascending to the fourth floor. Then he
+signaled to the four men who had followed him up the Avenue in a
+government-owned machine--men who had been stationed outside the Library
+in the event of just such an occurrence--and instructed two of them to
+guard the rear of the house, while the other two remained in front.
+
+"I'm going to make this haul myself," Walters stated, "but I want you
+boys to cover up in case anything happens to me. No matter what occurs,
+don't let him get away. Shoot first and ask questions afterward!" and he
+had re-entered the house almost before he finished speaking.
+
+On the landing at the third floor he paused long enough to give the men
+at the rear a chance to get located. Then--a quick ring at the bell on
+the fourth floor and he waited for action.
+
+Nothing happened. Another ring--and still no response.
+
+As he pressed the button for the third time the door swung slowly
+inward, affording only a glimpse of a dark, uninviting hall. But, once
+he was inside, the door closed silently and he heard a bolt slipped into
+place. Simultaneously a spot light, arranged over the doorway, flashed
+on and Dick was almost dazzled by the glare. Out of the darkness came
+the guttural inquiry:
+
+"What do you want?"
+
+"Not a thing in the world," replied Walters, "except to know if a man
+named Simpson lives here."
+
+"No," came the voice, "he does not. Get out!"
+
+"Sure I will if you'll pull back that bolt. What's the idea, anyhow?
+You're as mysterious as if you were running a bomb factory or
+something--"
+
+As he spoke he ducked, for if the words had the effect he hoped, the
+other would realize that he was cornered and attempt to escape.
+
+A guttural German oath, followed by a rapid movement of the man's hand
+toward his hip pocket was the reply. In a flash Dick slipped forward,
+bending low to avoid the expected attack, and seized the German in a
+half nelson that defied movement. Backing out of the circle of light, he
+held the helpless man in front of him--as a shelter in case of an
+attack from other occupants of the apartment--and called for assistance.
+The crash of glass at the rear told him that reinforcements had made
+their way up the fire escape and had broken in through the window. A
+moment later came the sound of feet on the stairs and the other two
+operatives were at the door, revolvers drawn and ready for action.
+
+But there wasn't any further struggle. Von Ewald--or whatever his real
+name was, for that was never decided--was alone and evidently realized
+that the odds were overwhelming. Meekly, almost placidly, he allowed the
+handcuffs to be slipped over his wrists and stood by as the Secret
+Service men searched the apartment. Not a line or record was found to
+implicate anyone else--but what they did discover was a box filled with
+bombs precisely like those picked up on the scene of the Black Tom
+explosion, proof sufficient to send the German to the penitentiary for
+ten years--for our laws, unfortunately, do not permit of the death
+penalty for spies unless caught red-handed by the military authorities.
+
+That he was the man for whom they were searching--the mysterious "No.
+859"--was apparent from the fact that papers concealed in his desk
+contained full details as to the arrangement of the Nemours plant at
+Wilmington, Delaware, with a dozen red dots indicative of the best
+places to plant bombs. Of his associates and the manner in which he
+managed his organization there wasn't the slightest trace. But the Black
+Tom explosion, if you recall, was the last big catastrophe of its kind
+in America--and the capture of von Ewald was the reason that more of the
+German plots didn't succeed.
+
+The Treasury Department realized this fact when Mary McNilless, on the
+morning of the day she was to be married to Dick Walters, U. S. S. S.,
+received a very handsome chest of silver, including a platter engraved,
+"To Miss Mary McNilless, whose cleverness and keen perception saved
+property valued at millions of dollars."
+
+No one ever found out who sent it, but it's a safe bet that the order
+came from Washington by way of Wilmington, where the Nemours plant still
+stands--thanks to the quickness of Mary's Irish eyes.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+PHYLLIS DODGE, SMUGGLER EXTRAORDINARY
+
+
+Bill Quinn tossed aside his evening paper and, cocking his feet upon a
+convenient chair, remarked that, now that peace was finally signed,
+sealed, and delivered, there ought to be a big boom in the favorite
+pastime of the idle rich.
+
+"Meaning what?" I inquired.
+
+"Smuggling, of course," said Quinn, who only retired from Secret Service
+when an injury received in action forced him to do so.
+
+"Did you ever travel on a liner when four out of every five people on
+board didn't admit that they were trying to beat the customs officials
+one way or another--and the only reason the other one didn't follow suit
+was because he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. That's how Uncle
+Sam's detectives pick up a lot of clues. The amateur crook never
+realizes that silence is golden and that oftentimes speech leads to a
+heavy fine.
+
+"Now that the freedom of the seas is an accomplished fact the whole crew
+of would-be smugglers will doubtless get to work again, only to be
+nabbed in port. Inasmuch as ocean travel has gone up with the rest of
+the cost of living, it'll probably be a sport confined to the
+comparatively rich, for a couple of years anyhow.
+
+"It was different in the old days. Every steamer that came in was loaded
+to the eyes and you never knew when you were going to spot a hidden
+necklace or a packet of diamonds that wasn't destined to pay duty. There
+were thrills to the game, too, believe me.
+
+"Why, just take the case of Phyllis Dodge...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Dodge [Quinn continued, after he had packed his pipe to a condition
+where it was reasonably sure to remain lighted for some time] was,
+theoretically at least, a widow. Her full name, as it appeared on many
+passenger lists during the early part of 1913, was Mrs. Mortimer C.
+Dodge, of Cleveland, Ohio. When the customs officials came to look into
+the matter they weren't able to find anyone in Cleveland who knew her,
+but then it's no penal offense to give the purser a wrong address, or
+even a wrong name, for that matter.
+
+While there may have been doubts about Mrs. Dodge's widowhood--or
+whether she had ever been married, for that matter--there could be none
+about her beauty. In the language of the classics, she was there. Black
+hair, brown eyes, a peaches-and-cream complexion that came and went
+while you watched it, and a figure that would have made her fortune in
+the Follies. Joe Gregory said afterward that trailing her was one of the
+easiest things he had ever done.
+
+To get the whole story of Phyllis and her extraordinary
+cleverness--extraordinary because it was so perfectly obvious--we'll
+have to cut back a few months before she came on the scene.
+
+For some time the Treasury Department had been well aware that a number
+of precious stones, principally pearl necklaces, were being smuggled
+into the country. Agents abroad--the department maintains a regular
+force in Paris, London, Rotterdam, and other European points, you
+know--had reported the sale of the jewels and they had turned up a few
+weeks later in New York or Chicago. But the Customs Service never
+considers it wise to trace stones back from their owners on this side.
+There are too many ramifications to any well-planned smuggling scheme,
+and it is too easy for some one to claim that he had found them in a
+long-forgotten chest in the attic or some such story as that. The burden
+of proof rests upon the government in a case of this kind and, except in
+the last extremity, it always tries to follow the chase from the other
+end--to nab the smuggler in the act and thus build up a jury-proof case.
+
+Reports of the smuggling cases had been filtered into the department
+half a dozen times in as many months, and the matter finally got on the
+chief's nerves to such a degree that he determined to thrash it out if
+it took every man he had.
+
+In practically every case the procedure was the same--though the only
+principals known were different each time.
+
+Rotterdam, for example, would report: "Pearl necklace valued at $40,000,
+sold to-day to man named Silverburg. Have reason to believe it is
+destined for States"--and then would follow a technical description of
+the necklace. Anywhere from six weeks to three months later the necklace
+would turn up in the possession of a jeweler who bore a shady
+reputation. Sometimes the article wouldn't appear at all, which might
+have been due to the fact that they weren't brought into this country or
+that the receivers had altered them beyond recognition. However, the
+European advices pointed to the latter supposition--which didn't soothe
+the chief's nerves the least bit.
+
+Finally, along in the middle of the spring of nineteen thirteen, there
+came a cable from Paris announcing the sale of the famous Yquem
+emerald--a gorgeous stone that you couldn't help recognizing once you
+got the description. The purchaser was reported to be an American named
+Williamson. He paid cash for it, so his references and his antecedents
+were not investigated at the time.
+
+Sure enough, it wasn't two months later when a report came in from
+Chicago that a pork-made millionaire had added to his collection a stone
+which tallied to the description of the Yquem emerald.
+
+"Shall we go after it from this end, Chief?" inquired one of the men on
+the job in Washington. "We can make the man who bought it tell us where
+he got it and then sweat the rest of the game out of the go-betweens."
+
+"Yes," snorted the chief, "and be laughed out of court on some
+trumped-up story framed by a well-paid lawyer. Not a chance! I'm going
+to land those birds and land 'em with the goods. We can't afford to take
+any chances with this crowd. They've evidently got money and brains, a
+combination that you've got to stay awake nights to beat. No--we'll nail
+'em in New York just as they're bringing the stones in.
+
+"Send a wire to Gregory to get on the job at once and tell New York to
+turn loose every man they've got--though they've been working on the
+case long enough, Heaven knows!"
+
+The next morning when Gregory and his society manner strolled into the
+customhouse in New York he found the place buzzing. Evidently the
+instructions from Washington had been such as to make the entire force
+fear for their jobs unless the smuggling combination was broken up
+quickly. It didn't take Joe very long to get the details. They weren't
+many and he immediately discarded the idea of possible collusion between
+the buyers of the stones abroad. It looked to be a certainty on the face
+of it, but, once you had discovered that, what good did it do you? It
+wasn't possible to jail a man just because he bought some jewels in
+Europe--and, besides, the orders from Washington were very clear that
+the case was to be handled strictly from this side--at least, the final
+arrest was to be made on American soil, to avoid extradition
+complications and the like.
+
+So when Joe got all the facts they simply were that some valuable jewels
+had been purchased in Europe and had turned up in America, without going
+through the formality of visiting the customhouse, anywhere from six
+weeks to three months later.
+
+"Not much to work on," grumbled Gregory, "and I suppose, as usual, that
+the chief will be as peevish as Hades if we don't nab the guilty party
+within the week."
+
+"It's more than possible," admitted one of the men who had handled the
+case.
+
+Gregory studied the dates on which the jewels had been purchased and
+those on which they had been located in this country for a few moments
+in silence. Then:
+
+"Get me copies of the passenger lists of every steamer that has docked
+here in the past year," he directed. "Of course it's possible that these
+things might have been landed at Boston or Philadelphia, but New York's
+the most likely port."
+
+When the lists had been secured Gregory stuffed them into his suit case
+and started for the door.
+
+"Where you going?" inquired McMahon, the man in charge of the New York
+office.
+
+"Up to the Adirondacks for a few days," Gregory replied.
+
+"What's the idea? Think the stuff is being brought over by airplane and
+landed inland? Liners don't dock upstate, you know."
+
+"No," said Gregory, "but that's where I'm going to dock until I can
+digest this stuff," and he tapped his suit case. "Somewhere in this
+bunch of booklets there's a clue to this case and it's up to me to spot
+it. Good-by."
+
+Five days later when he sauntered back into the New York office the suit
+case was surprisingly light. Apparently every one of the passenger lists
+had vanished. As a matter of fact, they had been boiled down to three
+names which were carefully inscribed in Joe's notebook.
+
+"Did you pick up any jewels in the Catskills?" was the question that
+greeted him when he entered.
+
+"Wasn't in the Catskills," he growled. "Went up to a camp in the
+Adirondacks--colder'n blazes. Any more stuff turn up?"
+
+"No, but a wire came from Washington just after you left to watch out
+for a hundred-thousand-dollar string of pearls sold at a private auction
+in London last week to an American named--"
+
+"I don't care what _his_ name was," Gregory cut in. "What was the date
+they were sold?"
+
+"The sixteenth."
+
+Gregory glanced at the calendar.
+
+"And to-day is the twenty-second," he mused. "What boats are due in the
+next three days?"
+
+"The _Cretic_ docks this afternoon and the _Tasmania_ ought to get in
+to-morrow. That'll be all until the end of the week."
+
+"Right!" snapped Gregory. "Don't let a soul off the _Cretic_ until I've
+had a look at her passenger list. It's too late to go down the harbor
+now, but not a person's to get off that ship until I've had a chance to
+look 'em over. Also cable for a copy of the _Tasmania's_ passenger list.
+Hurry it up!"
+
+Less than ten minutes after he had slipped on board the _Cretic_,
+however, Gregory gave the signal which permitted the gangplank to be
+lowered and the passengers to proceed as usual--except for the fact that
+the luggage of everyone and the persons of not a few were searched with
+more than the average carefulness. But not a trace of the pearls was
+found, as Joe had anticipated. A careful inspection of the passenger
+list and a few moments with the purser had convinced him that none of
+his three suspects were on board.
+
+Shortly after he returned to the office, the list of the _Tasmania's_
+passengers began to come over the cables. Less than half a page had been
+received when Gregory uttered a sudden exclamation, reached for his
+notebook, compared a name in it with one which appeared on the cabled
+report, and indulged in the luxury of a deep-throated chuckle.
+
+"Greg's got a nibble somewhere," commented one of the bystanders.
+
+"Yes," admitted his companion, "but landin' the fish is a different
+matter. Whoever's on the other end of that line is a mighty cagy
+individual."
+
+But, though he undoubtedly overheard the remark, Gregory didn't seem to
+be the least bit worried. In fact, his hat was at a more rakish angle
+than usual and his cane fairly whistled through the air as he wandered
+up the Avenue half an hour later.
+
+The next the customs force heard of him was when he boarded the
+quarantine boat the next morning, clambering on the liner a little later
+with all the skill of a pilot.
+
+"You have a passenger on board by the name of Dodge," he informed the
+purser, after he had shown his badge. "Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge. What do
+you know about her?"
+
+"Not a thing in the world," said the purser, "except that she is a most
+beautiful and apparently attractive woman. Crossed with us once
+before--"
+
+"Twice," corrected Gregory. "Came over in January and went right back."
+
+"That's right," said the purser, "so she did. I'd forgotten that. But,
+beyond that fact, there isn't anything that I can add."
+
+"Seem to be familiar with anyone on board?"
+
+"Not particularly. Mixes with the younger married set and I've noticed
+her on deck with the Mortons quite frequently. Probably met them on her
+return trip last winter. They were along then, if I remember rightly."
+
+"Thanks," said the customs operative. "You needn't mention anything
+about my inquiries, of course," and he mixed with the throng of
+newspaper reporters who were picking up news in various sections of the
+big vessel.
+
+When the _Tasmania_ docked, Gregory was the first one off.
+
+"Search Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge to the skin," he directed the matron.
+"Take down her hair, tap the heels of her shoes, and go through all the
+usual stunts, but be as gentle as you can about it. Say that we've
+received word that some uncut diamonds--not pearls, mind you--are
+concealed on the _Tasmania_ and that orders have been given to go over
+everybody thoroughly. Pass the word along the line to give out the same
+information, so she won't be suspicious. I don't think you'll find
+anything, but you never can tell."
+
+At that, Joe was right. The matron didn't locate a blessed thing out of
+the way. Mrs. Dodge had brought in a few dutiable trinkets, but they
+were all down on her declaration, and within the hour she was headed
+uptown in a taxi, accompanied by a maid who had met her as she stepped
+out of the customs office.
+
+Not far behind them trailed another taxi, top up and Gregory's eyes
+glued to the window behind the chauffeur.
+
+The first machine finally drew up at the Astor, and Mrs. Dodge and the
+maid went in, followed by a pile of luggage which had been searched
+until it was a moral certainty that not a needle would have been
+concealed in it.
+
+Gregory waited until they were out of sight and then followed.
+
+In answer to his inquiries at the desk he learned that Mrs. Dodge had
+stopped at the hotel several times before and the house detective
+assured him that there was nothing suspicious about her conduct.
+
+"How about the maid?" inquired Gregory.
+
+"Don't know a thing about her, either, except that she is the same one
+she had before. Pretty little thing, too--though not as good-looking as
+her mistress."
+
+For the next three days Joe hung around the hotel or followed the lady
+from the _Tasmania_ wherever she went. Something in the back of his
+head--call it intuition or a hunch or whatever you please, but it's the
+feeling that a good operative gets when he's on the right trail--told
+him that he was "warm," as the kids say. Appearances seemed to deny that
+fact. Mrs. Dodge went only to the most natural places--a few visits to
+the stores, a couple to fashionable modistes and milliners, and some
+drives through the Park, always accompanied by her maid and always in
+the most sedate and open manner.
+
+But on the evening of the third day the house detective tipped Joe off
+that his prey was leaving in the morning.
+
+"Guess she's going back to Europe," reported the house man. "Gave orders
+to have a taxi ready at nine and her trunks taken down to the docks
+before them. Better get busy if you want to land her."
+
+"I'm not ready for that just yet," Gregory admitted with a scowl.
+
+When Mrs. Dodge's taxi drove off the following morning Joe wasn't far
+away, and, acting on orders which he had delivered over the phone, no
+less than half a dozen operatives watched the lady and the maid very
+closely when they reached the dock.
+
+Not a thing came of it, however. Both of them went to the stateroom
+which had been reserved and the maid remained to help with the unpacking
+until the "All-ashore-that-'re-going-ashore" was bellowed through the
+boat. Then she left and stood on the pier until the ship had cleared the
+dock.
+
+"It beats me," muttered Gregory. "But I'm willing to gamble my job that
+I'm right." And that night he wired to Washington to keep a close
+lookout for the London pearls, adding that he felt certain they would
+turn up before long.
+
+"In that case," muttered the chief at the other end of the wire, "why in
+Heaven's name didn't he get them when they came in?"
+
+Sure enough, not a fortnight had passed before St. Louis reported that a
+string of pearls, perfectly matched, answering to the description of the
+missing jewels, had been offered for sale there through private
+channels.
+
+The first reaction was a telegram to Gregory that fairly burned the
+wires, short but to the point. "Either the man who smuggled that
+necklace or your job in ten days," it read.
+
+And Gregory replied, "Give me three weeks and you'll have one or the
+other."
+
+Meanwhile he had been far from inactive. Still playing his hunch that
+Phyllis Dodge had something to do with the smuggling game, he had put in
+time cultivating the only person on this side that appeared to know
+her--the maid.
+
+It was far from a thankless task, for Alyce--she spelled it with a
+"y"--was pretty and knew it. Furthermore, she appeared to be entirely
+out of her element in a cheap room on Twenty-fourth Street. Most of the
+time she spent in wandering up the Avenue, and it was there that Gregory
+made her acquaintance--through the expedient of bumping her bag out of
+her hands and restoring it with one of his courtly bows. The next minute
+he was strolling alongside, remarking on the beauty of the weather.
+
+But, although he soon got to know Alyce well enough to take her to the
+theater and to the cabarets, it didn't seem to get him anywhere. She was
+perfectly frank about her position. Said she was a hair dresser by trade
+and that she acted as lady's maid to a Mrs. Dodge, who spent the better
+part of her time abroad.
+
+"In fact," she said, "Mrs. Dodge is only here three or four days every
+two months or so."
+
+"And she pays you for your time in between?"
+
+"Oh yes," Alyce replied; "she's more than generous."
+
+"I should say she was," Gregory thought to himself--but he considered it
+best to change the subject.
+
+During the days that followed, Joe exerted every ounce of his
+personality in order to make the best possible impression. Posing as a
+man who had made money in the West, he took Alyce everywhere and treated
+her royally. Finally, when he considered the time ripe, he injected a
+little love into the equation and hinted that he thought it was about
+time to settle down and that he appeared to have found the proper person
+to settle with.
+
+But there, for the first time, Alyce balked. She didn't refuse him, but
+she stated in so many words that she had a place that suited her for the
+time being, and that, until the fall, at least, she preferred to keep on
+with it.
+
+"That suits me all right," declared Gregory. "Take your time about it.
+Meanwhile we'll continue to be good friends and trail around together,
+eh?"
+
+"Certainly," said Alyce, "er--that is--until Tuesday."
+
+"Tuesday?" inquired Joe. "What's coming off Tuesday?"
+
+"Mrs. Dodge will arrive on the _Atlantic_," was the reply, "and I'll
+have to be with her for three days at least."
+
+"Three days--" commenced Gregory, and halted himself. It wasn't wise to
+show too much interest. But that night he called the chief on long
+distance and inquired if there had been any recent reports of suspicious
+jewel sales abroad. "Yes," came the voice from Washington, "pearls
+again. Loose ones, this time. And your three weeks' grace is up at noon
+Saturday." The click that followed as the receiver hung up was finality
+itself.
+
+The same procedure, altered in a few minor details, was followed when
+Mrs. Dodge landed. Again she was searched to the skin; again her luggage
+was gone over with microscopic care, and again nothing was found.
+
+This time she stayed at the Knickerbocker, but Alyce was with her as
+usual.
+
+Deprived of his usual company and left to his own devices, Gregory took
+a long walk up the Drive and tried to thrash out the problem.
+
+"Comes over on a different boat almost every trip," he thought, "so that
+eliminates collusion with any of the crew. Doesn't stay at the same
+hotel two times running, so there's nothing there. Has the same maid and
+always returns--"
+
+Then it was that motorists on Riverside Drive were treated to the sight
+of a young and extremely prepossessing man, dressed in the height of
+fashion, throwing his hat in the air and uttering a yell that could be
+heard for blocks. After which he disappeared hurriedly in the direction
+of the nearest drug store.
+
+A hasty search through the phone book gave him the number he wanted--the
+offices of the Black Star line.
+
+"Is Mr. MacPherson, the purser of the _Atlantic_, there?" he inquired.
+Then: "Hello! Mr. MacPherson? This is Gregory, Customs Division. You
+remember me, don't you? Worked on the Maitland diamond case with you two
+years ago.... Wonder if you could tell me something I want to know--is
+Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge booked to go back with you to-morrow?... She is?
+What's the number of her stateroom? And--er--what was the number of the
+room she had coming over?... I thank you."
+
+If the motorists whom Gregory had startled on the Drive had seen him
+emerge from the phone booth they would have marveled at the look of keen
+satisfaction and relief that was spread over his face. The cat that
+swallowed the canary was tired of life, compared with Joe at that
+moment.
+
+Next morning the Customs operatives were rather surprised to see Gregory
+stroll down to the _Atlantic_ dock about ten o'clock.
+
+"Thought you were somewhere uptown on the chief's pet case," said one of
+them.
+
+"So I was," answered Joe. "But that's practically cleaned up."
+
+With that he went aboard, and no one saw him until just before the
+"All-ashore" call. Then he took up his place beside the gangplank, with
+three other men placed near by in case of accident.
+
+"Follow my lead," he directed. "I'll speak to the girl. Two of you stick
+here to make certain that she doesn't get away, and you, Bill, beat it
+on board then and tell the captain that the boat's not to clear until we
+give the word. We won't delay him more than ten minutes at the outside."
+
+When Alyce came down the gangplank a few minutes later, in the midst of
+people who had been saying good-by to friends and relatives, she spotted
+Joe waiting for her, and started to move hurriedly away. Gregory caught
+up with her before she had gone a dozen feet.
+
+"Good morning, Alyce," he said. "Thought I'd come down to meet you.
+What've you got in the bag there?" indicating her maid's handbag.
+
+"Not--not a thing," said the girl, flushing. Just then the matron joined
+the party, as previously arranged, and Joe's tone took on its official
+hardness.
+
+"Hurry up and search her! We don't want to keep the boat any longer than
+we have to."
+
+Less than a minute later the matron thrust her head out of the door long
+enough to report: "We found 'em--the pearls. She had 'em in the front of
+her dress."
+
+Gregory was up the gangplank in a single bound. A moment later he was
+knocking at the door of Mrs. Dodge's stateroom. The instant the knob
+turned he was inside, informing Phyllis that she was under arrest on a
+charge of bringing jewels into the United States without the formality
+of paying duty. Of course, the lady protested--but the _Atlantic_
+sailed, less than ten minutes behind schedule time, without her.
+
+Promptly at twelve the phone on the desk of the chief of the Customs
+Division in Washington buzzed noisily.
+
+"Gregory speaking," came through the receiver. "My time's up--and I've
+got the party you want. Claims to be from Cleveland and sails under the
+name of Mrs. Mortimer C. Dodge--first name Phyllis. She's confessed and
+promises to turn state's evidence if we'll go light with her."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That," added Quinn, "was the finish of Mrs. Dodge, so far as the
+government was concerned. In order to land the whole crew--the people
+who were handling the stuff on this side as well as the ones who were
+mixed up in the scheme abroad--they let her go scot-free, with the
+proviso that she's to be rushed to Atlanta if she ever pokes her nose
+into the United States again. The last I heard of her she was in Monaco,
+tangled up in a blackmail case there.
+
+"Gregory told me all about it sometime later. Said that the first hunch
+had come to him when he studied the passengers' lists in the wilds of
+the Adirondacks. Went there to be alone and concentrate. He found that
+of all the people listed, only three--two men and a Mrs. Dodge--had made
+the trip frequently in the past six months. The frequency of Mrs.
+Dodge's travel evidently made it impracticable for her to use different
+aliases. Some one would be sure to spot her.
+
+"But it wasn't until that night on Riverside Drive that the significance
+of the data struck him. Each time she took the same boat on which she
+had come over! Did she have the same stateroom? The phone call to
+MacPherson established the fact that she did--this time at least. The
+rest was almost as obvious as the original plan. The jewels were brought
+aboard, passed on to Phyllis, and she tucked them away somewhere in her
+stateroom. Her bags and her person could, of course, be searched with
+perfect safety. Then, what was more natural than that her maid should
+accompany her on board when she was leaving? Nobody ever pays any
+attention to people who board the boat at _this_ end, so Alyce was able
+to walk off with the stuff under the very eyes of the customs
+authorities--and they found later that she had the nerve to place it in
+the hands of the government for the next twenty-four hours. She sent it
+by registered mail to Pittsburgh and it was passed along through an
+underground "fence" channel until a prospective purchaser appeared.
+
+"Perfectly obvious and perfectly simple--that's why the plan succeeded
+until Gregory began to make love to Alyce and got the idea that Mrs.
+Dodge was going right back to Europe hammered into his head. It had
+occurred to him before, but he hadn't placed much value on it....
+
+"O-o-o-o!" yawned Quinn. "I'm getting dry. Trot out some grape juice and
+put on that Kreisler record--'Drigo's Serenade.' I love to hear it.
+Makes me think of the time when they landed that scoundrel Weimar."
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+A MATTER OF RECORD
+
+
+"What was that you mentioned last week--something about the record of
+Kreisler's 'Drigo's Serenade' reminding you of the capture of some one?"
+I asked Bill Quinn one summer evening as he painfully hoisted his game
+leg upon the porch railing.
+
+"Sure it does," replied Quinn. "Never fails. Put it on again so I can
+get the necessary atmosphere, as you writers call it, and possibly I'll
+spill the yarn--provided you guarantee to keep the ginger ale flowing
+freely. That and olive oil are about the only throat lubricants left
+us."
+
+So I slipped on the record, rustled a couple of bottles from the ice
+box, and settled back comfortably, for when Quinn once started on one of
+his reminiscences of government detective work he didn't like to be
+interrupted.
+
+"That's the piece, all right," Bill remarked, as the strains of the
+violin drifted off into the night. "Funny how a few notes of music like
+that could nail a criminal while at the same time it was saving the
+lives of nobody knows how many other people--"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Remember Paul Weimar [continued Quinn, picking up the thread of his
+story]. He was the most dangerous of the entire gang that helped von
+Bernstorff, von Papen, and the rest of that crew plot against the United
+States at a time when we were supposed to be entirely neutral.
+
+An Austrian by birth, Weimar was as thoroughly a Hun at heart as anyone
+who ever served the Hohenzollerns and, in spite of his size, he was as
+slippery as they make 'em. Back in the past somewhere he had been a
+detective in the service of the Atlas Line, but for some years before
+the war was superintendent of the police attached to the
+Hamburg-American boats. That, of course, gave him the inside track in
+every bit of deviltry he wanted to be mixed up in, for he had made it
+his business to cultivate the acquaintance of wharf rats, dive keepers,
+and all the rest of the scum of the Seven Seas that haunts the docks.
+
+Standing well over six feet, Weimar had a pair of fists that came in
+mighty handy in a scuffle, and a tongue that could curl itself around
+all the blasphemies of a dozen languages. There wasn't a water front
+where they didn't hate him--neither was there a water front where they
+didn't fear him.
+
+Of course, when the war broke in August, 1914, the Hamburg-American line
+didn't have any further official use for Weimar. Their ships were tied
+up in neutral or home ports and Herr Paul was out of a job--for at least
+ten minutes. But he was entirely too valuable a man for the German
+organization to overlook for longer than that, and von Papen, in
+Washington, immediately added him to his organization--with blanket
+instructions to go the limit on any dirty work he cared to undertake.
+Later, he worked for von Bernstorff; Doctor Dumba, the Austrian
+ambassador; and Doctor von Nuber, the Austrian consul in New York--but
+von Papen had first claim upon his services and did not hesitate to
+press them, as proven by certain entries in the checkbook of the
+military attache during the spring and summer of 1915.
+
+Of course, it didn't take the Secret Service and the men from the
+Department of Justice very long to get on to the fact that Weimar was
+altogether too close to the German embassy for the safety and comfort of
+the United States government. But what were they to do about it? We
+weren't at war then and you couldn't arrest a man merely because he
+happened to know von Papen and the rest of his precious companions. You
+had to have something on him--something that would stand up in
+court--and Paul Weimar was too almighty clever to let that happen.
+
+When you remember that it took precisely one year to land this
+Austrian--one year of constant watching and unceasing espionage--you
+will see how well he conducted himself.
+
+And the government's sleuths weren't the only ones who were after him,
+either.
+
+Captain Kenney, of the New York Police Force, lent mighty efficient aid
+and actually invented a new system of trailing in order to find out just
+what he was up to.
+
+In the old days, you told a man to go out and follow a suspect and that
+was all there was to it. The "shadow" would trail along half a block or
+so in the rear, keeping his man always in view, and bring home a full
+account of what he had done all day. But you couldn't do that with
+Weimar--he was too foxy. From what some of the boys have told me, I
+think he took a positive delight in throwing them off the scent, whether
+he had anything up his sleeve or not.
+
+One day, for example, you could have seen his big bulk swinging
+nonchalantly up Broadway, as if he didn't have a care in the world. A
+hundred feet or more behind him was Bob Dugan, one of Kenney's men. When
+Weimar disappeared into the Subway station at Times Square, Dugan was
+right behind him, and when the Austrian boarded the local for Grand
+Central Station, Dugan was on the same train--on the same car, in fact.
+But when they reached the station, things began to happen. Weimar left
+the local and commenced to stroll up and down the platform, waiting
+until a local train and an express arrived at the same time. That was
+his opportunity. He made a step or two forward, as if to board the
+express, and Dugan--not wishing to make himself too conspicuous--slipped
+on board just as the doors were closing, only to see Weimar push back
+and jam his way on the local!
+
+Variations of that stunt occurred time after time. Even the detailing of
+two men to follow him failed in its purpose, for the Austrian would
+enter a big office building, leap into an express elevator just as it
+was about to ascend, slip the operator a dollar to stop at one of the
+lower floors, and be lost for the day or until some one picked him up by
+accident.
+
+So Cap Kenney called in four of his best men and told them that it was
+essential that Weimar be watched.
+
+"Two of you," he directed, "stick with him all the time. Suppose you
+locate him the first thing in the morning at his house on Twenty-fourth
+Street, for example. You, Cottrell, station yourself two blocks up the
+street. Gary, you go the same distance down. Then, no matter which way
+he starts he'll have one of you in front of him and one behind. The man
+in front will have to use his wits to guess which way he intends to go
+and to beat him to it. If he boards a car, the man in front can pick him
+up with the certainty that the other will cover the trail in the rear.
+In that way you ought to be able to find out where he is going and,
+possibly, what he is doing there."
+
+The scheme, thanks to the quick thinking of the men assigned to the job,
+worked splendidly for months--at least it worked in so far as keeping a
+watch on Weimar was concerned. But that was all. In the summer of 1915
+the government knew precisely where Weimar had been for the past six
+months, with whom he had talked, and so on--but the kernel of the nut
+was missing. There wasn't the least clue to what he had talked about and
+what deviltry he had planned!
+
+Without that information, all the dope the government had was about as
+useful as a movie to a blind man.
+
+Washington was so certain that Weimar had the key to a number of very
+important developments--among them the first attempt to blow up the
+Welland Canal--that the chief of the Secret Service made a special trip
+to New York to talk to Kenney.
+
+"Isn't it possible," he suggested, "to plant your men close enough to
+Weimar to find out, for example, what he talks about over the phone?"
+
+Kenney smiled, grimly.
+
+"Chief," he said, "that's been done. We've tapped every phone that
+Weimar's likely to use in the neighborhood of his house and every time
+he talks from a public station one of our men cuts in from near-by--by
+an arrangement with Central--and gets every word. But that bird is too
+wary to be caught with chaff of that kind. He's evidently worked out a
+verbal code of some kind that changes every day. He tells the man at the
+other end, for example, to be at the drug store on the corner of
+Seventy-third and Broadway at three o'clock to-morrow afternoon and wait
+for a phone call in the name of Williams. Our man is always at the place
+at the appointed hour, but no call ever arrives. 'Seventy-third and
+Broadway' very evidently means some other address, but it's useless to
+try and guess which one. You'd have to have a man at every pay station
+in town to follow that lead."
+
+"How about overhearing his directions to the men he meets in the open?"
+
+"Not a chance in the world. His rendezvous are always public places--the
+Pennsylvania or Grand Central Station, a movie theater, a hotel lobby,
+or the like. There he can put his back against the wall and make sure
+that no one is listening in. He's on to all the tricks of the trade and
+it will take a mighty clever man--or a bunch of them--to nail him."
+
+"H-m-m!" mused the chief. "Well, at that, I believe I've got the man."
+
+"Anyone I know?"
+
+"Yes, I think you do--Morton Maxwell. Remember him? Worked on the
+Castleman diamond case here a couple of years ago for the customs people
+and was also responsible for uncovering the men behind the sugar-tax
+fraud. He isn't in the Service, but he's working for the Department of
+Justice, and I'm certain they'll turn him loose on this if I ask them
+to. Maxwell can get to the bottom of Weimar's business, if anyone can.
+Let me talk to Washington--"
+
+And within an hour after the chief had hung up the receiver Morton
+Maxwell, better known as "Mort," was headed toward New York with
+instructions to report at Secret Service headquarters in that city.
+
+Once there, the chief and Kenney went over the whole affair with him.
+Cottrell and Gary and the other men who had been engaged in shadowing
+the elusive Weimar were called in to tell their part of the story, and
+every card was laid upon the table.
+
+When the conference concluded, sometime after midnight, the chief turned
+to Maxwell and inquired:
+
+"Well, what's your idea about it?"
+
+For a full minute Mort smoked on in silence and gazed off into space.
+Men who had just met him were apt to think this a pose, a play to the
+grand stand--but those who knew him best realized that Maxwell's alert
+mind was working fastest in such moments and that he much preferred not
+to make any decision until he had turned things over in his head.
+
+"There's just one point which doesn't appear to have been covered," he
+replied. Then, as Kenney started to cut in, "No, Chief, I said
+_appeared_ not to have been covered. Very possibly you have all the
+information on it and forgot to hand it out. Who does this Weimar live
+with?"
+
+"He lives by himself in a house on Twenty-fourth Street, near Seventh
+Avenue--boards there, but has the entire second floor. So far as we've
+been able to find out he has never been married. No trace of any wife on
+this side, anyhow. Never travels with women--probably afraid they'd talk
+too much."
+
+"Has he any relatives?"
+
+"None that I know of--"
+
+"Wait a minute," Cottrell interrupted. "I dug back into Weimar's record
+before the war ended his official connection with the steamship company,
+and one of the points I picked up was that he had a cousin--a man named
+George Buch--formerly employed on one of the boats.
+
+"Where is Buch now?" asked Maxwell.
+
+"We haven't been able to locate him," admitted the police detective.
+"Not that we've tried very hard, because the trail didn't lead in his
+direction. I don't even know that he is in this country, but it's likely
+that he is because he was on one of the boats that was interned here
+when the war broke."
+
+Again it was a full minute before Maxwell spoke.
+
+"Buch," he said, finally, "appears to be the only link between Weimar
+and the outer world. It's barely possible that he knows something, and,
+as we can't afford to overlook any clue, suppose we start work along
+that line. I'll dig into it myself the first thing in the morning, and I
+certainly would appreciate any assistance that your men could give me,
+Chief. Tell them to make discreet inquiries about Buch, his appearance,
+habits, etc., and to try and find out whether he is on this side. Now
+I'm going to turn in, for something seems to tell me that the busy
+season has arrived."
+
+At that Maxwell wasn't far wrong. The weeks that followed were well
+filled with work, but it was entirely unproductive of results. Weimar
+was shadowed day and night, his telephones tapped and his mail examined.
+But, save for the fact that his connection with the German embassy
+became increasingly apparent, no further evidence was forthcoming.
+
+The search for Buch was evidently futile, for that personage appeared to
+have disappeared from the face of the earth. All that Maxwell and the
+other men who worked on the matter could discover was that Buch--a young
+Austrian whose description they secured--had formerly been an intimate
+of Weimar. The latter had obtained his appointment to a minor office in
+the Hamburg-American line and Buch was commonly supposed to be a stool
+pigeon for the master plotter.
+
+But right there the trail stopped.
+
+No one appeared to know whether the Austrian was in New York, or the
+United States, for that matter, though one informant did admit that it
+was quite probable.
+
+"Buch and the big fellow had a row the last time over," was the
+information Maxwell secured at the cost of a few drinks. "Something
+about some money that Weimar is supposed to have owed him--fifteen
+dollars or some such amount. I didn't hear about it until afterward, but
+it appears to have been a pretty lively scrap while it lasted. Of
+course, Buch didn't have a chance against the big fellow--he could
+handle a bull. But the young Austrian threatened to tip his hand--said
+he knew a lot of stuff that would be worth a good deal more money than
+was coming to him, and all that sort of thing. But the ship docked the
+next day and I haven't seen or heard of him since."
+
+The idea of foul play at once leaped into Maxwell's mind, but
+investigation of police records failed to disclose the discovery of
+anybody answering to the description of George Buch and, as Captain
+Kenney pointed out, it is a decidedly difficult matter to dispose of a
+corpse in such a way as not to arouse at least the suspicions of the
+police.
+
+As a last resort, about the middle of September, Maxwell had a reward
+posted on the bulletin board of every police station in New York and the
+surrounding country for the "apprehension of George Buch, Austrian, age
+about twenty-four. Height, five feet eight inches. Hair, blond.
+Complexion, fair. Eyes, blue. Sandy mustache."
+
+As Captain Kenney pointed out, though, the description would apply to
+several thousand men of German parentage in the city, and to a good many
+more who didn't have a drop of Teutonic blood in their veins.
+
+"True enough," Maxwell was forced to admit, "but we can't afford to
+overlook a bet--even if it is a thousand-to-one shot."
+
+As luck would have it, the thousand-to-one shot won!
+
+On September 25, 1917, Detective Gary returned to headquarters,
+distinctly crestfallen. Weimar had given him the slip.
+
+In company with another man, whom the detective did not know, the
+Austrian had been walking up Sixth Avenue that afternoon when a machine
+swung in from Thirty-sixth Street and the Austrian had leaped aboard
+without waiting for it to come to a full stop.
+
+"Of course, there wasn't a taxi in sight," said Gary, ruefully, "and
+before I could convince the nearest chauffeur that my badge wasn't phony
+they'd gone!"
+
+"That's the first time in months," Gary replied. "He knows that he's
+followed, all right, and he's cagy enough to keep in the open and
+pretend to be aboveboard."
+
+"Right," commented the Department of Justice operative, "and this move
+would appear to indicate that something was doing. Better phone all your
+stations to watch out for him, Cap."
+
+But nothing more was seen or heard of Herr Weimar for five days.
+
+Meanwhile events moved rapidly for Maxwell.
+
+On September 26th, the day after the Austrian disappeared, one of the
+policemen whose beat lay along Fourteenth Street, near Third Avenue,
+asked to see the government detective.
+
+"My name's Riley," announced the copper, with a brogue as broad as the
+toes of his shoes. "Does this Austrian, this here Buch feller ye're
+lookin' for, like music? Is he nuts about it?"
+
+"Music?" echoed Maxwell. "I'm sure I don't know.... But wait a minute!
+Yes, that's what that chap who used to know him on the boat told me.
+Saying he was forever playing a fiddle when he was off duty and that
+Weimar threw it overboard one day in a fit of rage. Why? What's the
+connection?"
+
+"Nothin' in particular, save that a little girl I'm rather sweet on
+wurruks in a music store on Fourteenth Street an' she an' I was talkin'
+things over last night an' I happened to mintion th' reward offered for
+this Buch feller. 'Why!' says she, 'that sounds just like the Dutchy
+that used to come into th' shop a whole lot a year or so ago. He was
+crazy about music an' kep' himself pretty nigh broke a-buyin' those
+expensive new records. Got me to save him every violin one that came
+out.'"
+
+"Um, yes," muttered Maxwell, "but has the young lady seen anything of
+this chap lately?"
+
+"That she has not," Riley replied, "an' right there's th' big idear.
+Once a week, regular, another Dutchman comes in an' buys a record, an'
+he told Katy--that's me gurrul's name--last winter that th' selections
+were for a man that used to be a stiddy customer of hers but who was now
+laid up in bed."
+
+"In bed for over a year!" exclaimed Maxwell, his face lighting up. "Held
+prisoner somewhere in the neighborhood of that shop on Fourteenth
+Street, because the big Austrian hasn't the nerve to make away with him
+and yet fears that he knows too much! Look here, Riley--suppose you and
+Miss Katy take a few nights off--I'll substitute for her and make it all
+right with the man who owns the store. Then I can get a line on this
+buyer of records for sick men."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better, sir, if we hung around outside th' store an' let
+Katy give us the high sign when he come in? Then we could both trail him
+back to where he lives."
+
+"You're right, Riley, it would! Where'll I meet you to-night?"
+
+"At the corner of Fourteenth Street and Thoid Av'nue, at eight o'clock.
+Katy says th' man never gets there before nine."
+
+"I'll be there," said Maxwell--and he was.
+
+But nothing out of the ordinary rewarded their vigil the first night,
+nor the second. On the third night, however, just after the clock in the
+Metropolitan Tower had boomed nine times, a rather nondescript
+individual sauntered into the music store, and Riley's quick eyes saw
+the girl behind the counter put her left hand to her chest. Then she
+coughed.
+
+"That's th' signal, sir," warned the policeman in a whisper. "An' that's
+the guy we're after."
+
+Had the man turned around as he made his way toward a dark and
+forbidding house on Thirteenth Street, not far from Fourth Avenue, he
+might have caught sight of two shadows skulking along not fifty feet
+behind him. But, at that, he would have to have been pretty quick--for
+Maxwell was taking no chances on losing his prey and he had cautioned
+the policeman not to make a sound.
+
+When their quarry ascended the steps of No. 247 Riley started to move
+after him, but the Department of Justice operative halted him.
+
+"There's no hurry," stated Maxwell. "He doesn't suspect we're here, and,
+besides, it doesn't make any difference if he does lock the door--I've
+got a skeleton key handy that's guaranteed to open anything."
+
+Riley grunted, but stayed where he was until Maxwell gave the signal to
+advance.
+
+Once inside the door, which responded to a single turn to the key, the
+policeman and the government agent halted in the pitch-black darkness
+and listened. Then from an upper floor came the sound for which Maxwell
+had been waiting--the first golden notes of a violin played by a master
+hand. The distance and the closed doorway which intervened killed all
+the harsh mechanical tone of the phonograph and only the wonderful
+melody of "Drigo's Serenade" came down to them.
+
+On tiptoe, though they knew their movements would be masked by the
+sounds of the music, Riley and Maxwell crept up to the third floor and
+halted outside the door from which the sounds came.
+
+"Wait until the record is over," directed Maxwell, "and then break down
+that door. Have your gun handy and don't hesitate to shoot anyone who
+tries to injure Buch. I'm certain he's held prisoner here and it may be
+that the men who are guarding him have instructions not to let him
+escape at any cost. Ready? Let's go!"
+
+The final note of the Kreisler record had not died away before Riley's
+shoulder hit the flimsy door and the two detectives were in the room.
+
+Maxwell barely had time to catch a glimpse of a pale, wan figure on the
+bed and to sense the fact that there were two other men in the room,
+when there was a shout from Riley and a spurt of flame from his
+revolver. With a cry, the man nearest the bed dropped his arm and a
+pistol clattered to the floor--the barrel still singing from the impact
+of the policeman's bullet. The second man, realizing that time was
+precious, leaped straight toward Maxwell, his fingers reaching for the
+agent's throat. With a half laugh Mort clubbed his automatic and brought
+the butt down with sickening force on his assailant's head. Then he
+swung around and covered the man whom Riley had disarmed.
+
+"Don't worry about him, sir," said the policeman. "His arm'll be numb
+half an hour from now. What do you want to do with th' lad in th' bed?"
+
+"Get him out of here as quickly as we can. We won't bother with these
+swine. They have the law on their side, anyway, because we broke in here
+without a warrant. I only want Buch."
+
+When he had propped the young Austrian up in a comfortable chair in the
+Federal Building and had given him a glass of brandy to strengthen his
+nerves--the Lord only knows that they'll have to do in the
+future--Maxwell got the whole story and more than he had dared hoped
+for. Buch, following his quarrel with Weimar, had been held prisoner in
+the house on Thirteenth Street for over a year because, as Maxwell had
+figured, the Austrian didn't have the nerve to kill him and didn't dare
+let him loose. Barely enough food was allowed to keep him alive, and the
+only weakness that his cousin had shown was in permitting the purchase
+of one phonograph record a week in order to cheer him up a little.
+
+"Naturally," said Buch, "I chose the Kreisler records, because he's an
+Austrian and a marvelous violinist."
+
+"Did Weimar ever come to see you?" inquired Maxwell.
+
+"He came in every now and then to taunt me and to say that he was going
+to have me thrown in the river some day soon. That didn't frighten me,
+but there were other things that did. He came in last week, for example,
+and boasted that he was going to blow up a big canal and I was afraid he
+might be caught or killed. That would have meant no more money for the
+men who were guarding me and I was too weak to walk even to the window
+to call for help...."
+
+"A big canal!" Maxwell repeated. "He couldn't mean the Panama! No,
+that's impossible. I have it! The Welland Canal!" And in an instant he
+was calling the Niagara police on the long-distance phone, giving a
+detailed description of Weimar and his companions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"As it turned out," concluded Quinn, reaching for his empty glass,
+"Weimar had already been looking over the ground. He was arrested,
+however, before the dynamite could be planted, and, thanks to Buch's
+evidence, indicted for violation of Section Thirteen of the Penal Code.
+
+"Thus did a phonograph record and thirty pieces of silver--the thirty
+half-dollars that Weimar owed Buch--lead directly to the arrest of one
+of the most dangerous spies in the German service. Let's have Mr.
+Drigo's Serenade once more and pledge Mort Maxwell's health in ginger
+ale--unless you have a still concealed around the house. And if you have
+I will be in duty bound to tell Jimmy Reynolds about it--he's the lad
+that holds the record for persistency and cleverness in discovering
+moonshiners."
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE SECRET STILL
+
+
+"July 1, 1919," said Bill Quinn, as he appropriately reached for a
+bottle containing a very soft drink, "by no means marked the beginning
+of the government's troubles in connection with the illicit manufacture
+of liquor.
+
+"Of course, there's been a whole lot in the papers since the Thirst of
+July about people having private stills in their cellars, making drinks
+with a kick out of grape juice and a piece of yeast, and all that sort
+of thing. One concern in Pittsburgh, I understand, has also noted a
+tremendous and absolutely abnormal increase in the demand for its
+hot-water heating plants--the copper coils of which make an ideal
+substitute for a still--but I doubt very much if there's going to be a
+real movement in the direction of the private manufacture of alcoholic
+beverages. The Internal Revenue Department is too infernally watchful
+and its agents too efficient for much of that to get by.
+
+"When you get right down to it, there's no section in the country where
+the art of making 'licker' flourishes to such an extent as it does in
+eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina. Moonshine there is not
+only a recognized article of trade, but its manufacture is looked upon
+as an inalienable right. It's tough sledding for any revenue officer who
+isn't mighty quick on the trigger, and even then--as Jimmy Reynolds
+discovered a few years back--they're likely to get him unless he mixes
+brains with his shooting ability."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Reynolds [continued Quinn, easing his injured leg into a more
+comfortable position] was as valuable a man as any whose name ever
+appeared in the Government Blue Book. He's left the bureau now and
+settled down to a life of comparative ease as assistant district
+attorney of some middle Western city. I've forgotten which one, but
+there was a good reason for his not caring to remain in the East. The
+climate west of the Mississippi is far more healthy for Jimmy these
+days.
+
+At the time of the Stiles case Jim was about twenty-nine, straight as an
+arrow, and with a bulldog tenacity that just wouldn't permit of his
+letting go of a problem until the solution was filed in the official
+pigeonholes which answer to the names of archives. It was this trait
+which led Chambers, then Commissioner of Internal Revenue, to send for
+him, after receipt of a message that two of his best men--Douglas and
+Wood, I think their names were--had been brought back to Maymead,
+Tennessee, with bullet holes neatly drilled through their hearts.
+
+"Jim," said the Commissioner, "this case has gone just far enough. It's
+one thing for the mountaineers of Tennessee to make moonshine whisky and
+defy the laws of the United States. But when they deliberately murder
+two of my best men and pin a rudely scribbled note to 'Bewair of this
+country' on the front of their shirts, that's going entirely too far.
+I'm going to clean out that nest of illicit stills if it takes the rest
+of my natural life and every man in the bureau!
+
+"More than that, I'll demand help from the War Department, if necessary!
+By Gad! I'll teach 'em!" and the inkwell on the Commissioner's desk
+leaped into the air as Chambers's fist registered determination.
+
+Reynolds reached for a fresh cigar from the supply that always reposed
+in the upper drawer of the Commissioner's desk and waited until it was
+well lighted before he replied.
+
+"All well and good, Chief," he commented, "but how would the army help
+you any? You could turn fifty thousand men in uniform loose in those
+mountains, and the odds are they wouldn't locate the bunch you're after.
+Fire isn't the weapon to fight those mountaineers with. They're too
+wise. What you need is brains."
+
+"Possibly you can supply that deficiency," retorted the Commissioner, a
+little nettled.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean that you, personally, needed the brains," laughed
+Reynolds. "The pronoun was used figuratively and collectively. At that,
+I would like to have a whirl at the case if you've nothing better for me
+to do--"
+
+"There isn't anything better for anyone to do at the present time,"
+Chambers interrupted. "That's why I sent for you. We know that whisky is
+being privately distilled in large quantities somewhere in the mountains
+not far from Maymead. Right there our information ends. Our men have
+tried all sorts of dodges to land the crowd behind the stills, but the
+only thing they've been able to learn is that a man named Stiles is one
+of the ruling spirits. His cabin is well up in the mountains and it was
+while they were prospecting round that part of the country that Douglas
+and Wood were shot. Now what's your idea of handling the case?"
+
+"The first thing that I want, Chief, is to be allowed to work on this
+absolutely alone, and that not a soul, in bureau or out of it is to know
+what I'm doing."
+
+"Easy enough to arrange that," assented the Commissioner, "but--"
+
+"There isn't any 'but,'" Reynolds cut in. "You've tried putting a number
+of men to work on this and they've failed. Now try letting one handle
+it. For the past two years I've had a plan in the back of my head that
+I've been waiting the right opportunity to use. So far as I can see it's
+foolproof and I'm willing to take all the responsibility in connection
+with it."
+
+"Care to outline it?" inquired Chambers.
+
+"Not right at the moment," was Reynolds's reply, "because it would seem
+too wild and scatterbrained. I don't mind telling you, though, that for
+the next six weeks my address will be in care of the warden of the
+penitentiary of Morgantown, West Virginia, if you wish to reach me."
+
+"Morgantown?" echoed the Commissioner. "What in Heaven's name are you
+going to do there?"
+
+"Lay the stage setting for the first act," smiled Jimmy. "Likewise
+collect what authors refer to as local color--material that's essential
+to what I trust will be the happy ending of this drama--happy, at least,
+from the government's point of view. But, while you know that I'm at
+Morgantown, I don't want anyone else to know it and I'd much prefer that
+you didn't communicate with me there unless it's absolutely necessary."
+
+"All right, I won't. You're handling the case from now on."
+
+"Alone?"
+
+"Entirely--if you wish it."
+
+"Yes, Chief, I do wish it. I can promise you one of two things within
+the next three months: either you'll have all the evidence you want
+about the secret still and the men behind it or--well, you know where to
+ship my remains!"
+
+With that and a quick handshake he was gone.
+
+During the weeks that followed, people repeatedly asked the
+Commissioner:
+
+"What's become of Jimmy Reynolds? Haven't seen him round here for a
+month of Sundays."
+
+But the Commissioner would assume an air of blank ignorance, mutter
+something about, "He's out of town somewhere," and rapidly change the
+subject.
+
+About six weeks or so later a buzzard which was flapping its lazy way
+across the mountains which divide Tennessee from North Carolina saw, far
+below, a strange sight. A man, haggard and forlorn, his face covered
+with a half-inch of stubble, his cheeks sunken, his clothing torn by
+brambles and bleached by the sun and rain until it was almost impossible
+to tell its original texture, stumbled along with his eyes fixed always
+on the crest of a hill some distance off. It was as if he were making a
+last desperate effort to reach his goal before the sun went down.
+
+Had the buzzard been so minded, his keen eyes might have noted the fact
+that the man's clothes were marked by horizontal stripes, while his head
+was covered with hair the same length all over, as if he had been shaved
+recently and the unkempt thatch had sprouted during the last ten days.
+
+Painfully but persistently the man in convict's clothes pressed forward.
+When the sun was a little more than halfway across the heavens he
+glimpsed a cabin tucked away on the side of a mountain spur not far
+away. At the sight he pressed forward with renewed vigor, but distances
+are deceptive in that part of the country and it was not until nearly
+dark that he managed to reach his destination.
+
+In fact, the Stiles family was just sitting down to what passes for
+supper in that part of the world--fat bacon and corn bread,
+mostly--when there was the sound of a man's footstep some fifty feet
+away.
+
+Instantly the houn' dog rose from his accustomed place under the table
+and crouched, ready to repel invaders. Old Man Stiles--his wife called
+him Joe, but to the entire countryside he was just "Old Man
+Stiles"--reached for his rifle with a muttered imprecation about
+"Rev'nue officers who never let a body be."
+
+But the mountaineer had hardly risen from his seat when there was a
+sound as of a heavy body falling against the door--and then silence.
+
+Stiles looked inquiringly at his wife and then at Ruth, their adopted
+daughter. None of them spoke for an appreciable time, but the hound
+continued to whine and finally backed off into a corner.
+
+"Guess I'll have to see what et is," drawled the master of the cabin,
+holding his rifle ready for action.
+
+Slowly he moved toward the door and cautiously, very cautiously, he
+lifted the bolt that secured it. Even if it were a revenue officer, he
+argued to himself, his conscience was clear and his premises could stand
+the formality of a search because, save for a certain spot known to
+himself alone, there was nothing that could be considered incriminating.
+
+As the door swung back the body of a man fell into the room--a man whose
+clothing was tattered and whose features were concealed under a week's
+growth of stubbly beard. Right into the cabin he fell, for the door had
+supported his body, and, once that support was removed, he lay as one
+dead.
+
+In fact, it wasn't until at least five minutes had elapsed that Stiles
+came to the conclusion that the intruder was really alive, after all.
+During that time he had worked over him in the rough mountain fashion,
+punching and pulling and manhandling him in an effort to secure some
+sign of life. Finally the newcomer's eyes opened and he made an effort
+to sit up.
+
+"Wait a minute, stranger," directed Stiles, motioning his wife toward a
+closet in the corner of the room. Mrs. Stiles--or 'Ma,' as she was known
+in that part of the country--understood the movement. Without a word she
+opened the cupboard and took down a flask filled with a clear
+golden-yellow liquid. Some of this she poured into a cracked cup on the
+table and handed it to her husband.
+
+"Here," directed the mountaineer, "throw yo' haid back an' drink this.
+Et's good fur what ails yer."
+
+The moment after he had followed instructions the stranger gulped,
+gurgled, and gasped as the moonshine whisky burnt its way down his
+throat. The man-sized drink, taken on a totally empty stomach, almost
+nauseated him. Then it put new life in his veins and he tried to
+struggle to his feet.
+
+Ruth Stiles was beside him in an instant and, with her father's help,
+assisted him to a chair at the table.
+
+"Stranger," said Stiles, stepping aside and eying the intruder
+critically, "I don't know who or what you are, but I do know that yo'
+look plumb tuckered out. Nobody's goin' hungry in my house, so fall to
+an' we'll discuss other matters later."
+
+Whereupon he laid his rifle in its accustomed place, motioned to his
+wife and daughter to resume their places at the table, and dragged up
+another chair for himself.
+
+Beyond a word or two of encouragement to eat all he wanted of the very
+plain fare, none of the trio addressed the newcomer during the remainder
+of the meal. All three of them had noted the almost-obliterated stripes
+that encircled his clothing and their significance was unmistakable.
+But Stiles himself was far from being convinced. He had heard too much
+of the tricks of government agents to be misled by what might prove,
+after all, only a clever disguise.
+
+Therefore, when the womenfolk had cleared away the supper things and the
+two men had the room to themselves, the mountaineer offered his guest a
+pipeful of tobacco and saw to it that he took a seat before the fire
+where the light would play directly upon his features. Then he opened
+fire.
+
+"Stranger," he inquired, "what might yo' name be?"
+
+"Patterson," said the other. "Jim Patterson."
+
+"Whar you come from?"
+
+"Charlestown first an' Morgantown second. Up for twelve years for
+manslaughter--railroaded at that," was Patterson's laconic reply.
+
+"How'd you get away?"
+
+At that the convict laughed, but there was more of a snarl than humor in
+his tone as he answered: "Climbed th' wall when th' guards weren't
+lookin'. They took a coupla pot shots at me, but none of them came
+within a mile. Then I beat it south, travelin' by night an' hidin' by
+day. Stole what I could to eat, but this country ain't overly well
+filled with farms. Hadn't had a bite for two days, 'cept some berries,
+when I saw your cabin an' came up here."
+
+Stiles puffed away in silence for a moment. Then he rose, as if to fetch
+something from the other side of the room. Once behind Patterson,
+however, he reached forward and, seizing the stubble that covered his
+face, yanked it as hard as he could.
+
+"What th'----?" yelled the convict, springing to his feet and
+involuntarily raising his clenched hand.
+
+"Ca'm yo'self, stranger, ca'm yo'self," directed the mountaineer, with
+a half smile. "Jes' wanted to see for myself ef that beard was real,
+that's all. Thought you might be a rev'nue agent in disguise."
+
+"A rev'nue agent?" queried Patterson, and then as if the thought had
+just struck him that he was in the heart of the moonshining district, he
+added: "That's rich! Me, just out of th' pen an' you think I'm a bull.
+That's great. Here"--reaching into the recesses of his frayed
+shirt--"here's something that may convince you."
+
+And he handed over a tattered newspaper, more than a week old, and
+pointed to an article on the first page.
+
+"There, read that!"
+
+"Ruth does all th' reading for this fam'ly," was Stiles's muttered
+rejoinder. "Ruth! Oh, Ruth! Come here a minute an' read somethin' to yo'
+pappy!"
+
+Patterson had not failed to note, during supper, that Ruth Stiles came
+close to being a perfect specimen of a mountain flower, rough and
+undeveloped, but with more than a trace of real beauty, both in her face
+and figure. Standing in front of the fire, with its flickering light
+casting a sort of halo around her, she was almost beautiful--despite her
+homespun dress and shapeless shoes.
+
+Without a word the convict handed her the paper and indicated the
+article he had pointed out a moment before.
+
+"Reward offered for convict's arrest," she read. "James Patterson, doing
+time for murder, breaks out of Morgantown. Five hundred dollars for
+capture. Prisoner scaled wall and escaped in face of guards' fire." Then
+followed an account of the escape, the first of its kind in several
+years.
+
+"Even if you can't read," said Patterson, "there's my picture under the
+headline--the picture they took for the rogues' gallery," and he pointed
+to a fairly distinct photograph which adorned the page.
+
+Stiles took the paper closer to the fire to secure a better look,
+glanced keenly at the convict, and extended his hand.
+
+"Guess that's right, stranger," he admitted. "You're no rev'nue agent."
+
+Later in the evening, as she lay awake, thinking about the man who had
+shattered the monotony of their mountain life, Ruth Stiles wondered if
+Patterson had not given vent to what sounded suspiciously like a sigh of
+relief at that moment. But she was too sleepy to give much thought to
+it, and, besides, what if he had?...
+
+In the other half of the cabin, divided from the women's room only by a
+curtain of discolored calico, slept Patterson and Stiles--the former
+utterly exhausted by his travels, the latter resting with keen hair
+trigger consciousness of danger always only a short distance away.
+Nothing happened, however, to disturb the peace of the Stiles domicile.
+Even the hound slept quietly until the rosy tint of the eastern sky
+announced another day.
+
+After breakfast, at which the fat-back and corn bread were augmented by
+a brownish liquid which passed for coffee, Stiles informed his guest
+that he "reckoned he'd better stick close to th' house fer a few days,"
+as there was no telling whether somebody might not be on his trail.
+
+Patterson agreed that this was the proper course and put in his time
+helping with the various chores, incidentally becoming a little better
+acquainted with Ruth Stiles. That night he lay awake for several hours,
+but nothing broke the stillness save a few indications of animal life
+outside the cabin and the labored breathing of the mountaineer in the
+bunk below him.
+
+For three nights nothing occurred. But on the fourth night, Saturday,
+supper was served a little earlier than usual and Patterson noted just a
+suspicion of something almost electrical in the air. He gave no
+indication of what he had observed, however, and retired to his bunk in
+the usual manner. After an hour or more had elapsed he heard Stiles slip
+quietly off his mattress and a moment later there was the guarded
+scratch of a match as a lantern was lighted.
+
+Suspecting what would follow, Patterson closed his eyes and continued
+his deep, regular breathing. But he could sense the fact that the
+lantern had been swung up to a level with his bunk and he could almost
+feel the mountaineer's eyes as Stiles made certain that he was asleep.
+Stifling an impulse to snore or do something to convince his host that
+he wasn't awake, Patterson lay perfectly still until he heard the door
+close. Then he raised himself guardedly on one elbow and attempted to
+look through the window beside the bunk. But a freshly applied coat of
+whitewash prevented that, so he had to content himself with listening.
+
+Late in the night--so late that it was almost morning--he heard the
+sounds of men conversing in whispers outside the cabin, but he could
+catch nothing beyond his own name. Soon Stiles re-entered the room,
+slipped into bed, and was asleep instantly.
+
+So things went for nearly three weeks. The man who had escaped from
+prison made himself very useful around the cabin, and, almost against
+his will, found that he was falling a victim to the beauty and charm of
+the mountain girl.
+
+"I mustn't do it," he told himself over and over again. "I can't let
+myself! It's bad enough to come here and accept the old man's
+hospitality, but the girl's a different proposition."
+
+It was Ruth herself who solved the riddle some three weeks after
+Patterson's arrival. They were wandering through the woods together,
+looking for sassafras roots, when she happened to mention that Stiles
+was not her own father.
+
+"He's only my pappy," she said, "my adopted father. My real father was
+killed when I was a little girl. Shot through the head because he had
+threatened to tell where a still was hidden. He never did believe in
+moonshining. Said it was as bad as stealin' from the government. So
+somebody shot him and Ma Stiles took me in, 'cause she said she was
+sorry for me even if my pa was crazy."
+
+"Do you believe that moonshining is right?" asked her companion.
+
+"Anything my pa believed was the truth," replied the girl, her eyes
+flashing. "Everybody round these parts knows that Pappy Stiles helps run
+the big still the rev'nue officers been lookin' for the past three
+years. Two of 'em were shot not long ago, too--but that don't make it
+right. 'Specially when my pa said it was wrong. What you smilin' at?"
+
+Patterson resisted an inclination to tell her that the smile was one of
+relief and replied that he was just watching the antics of a chipmunk a
+little way off. But that night he felt a thrill of joy as he lay,
+listening as always, in his bunk.
+
+Things had been breaking rather fast of late. The midnight gatherings
+had become more frequent and, convinced that he had nothing to fear from
+his guest, Stiles was not as cautious as formerly. He seldom took the
+trouble to see that the escaped prisoner was asleep and he had even been
+known to leave the door unlatched as he went out into the night.
+
+That night, for example, was one of the nights that he was
+careless--and, as usually happens, he paid dearly for it.
+
+Waiting until Stiles was well out of the house, Patterson slipped
+silently out of his bunk in his stocking feet and, inch by inch,
+reopened the door. Outside, the moon was shining rather brightly, but,
+save for the retreating figure of the mountaineer--outlined by the
+lantern he carried--there was nothing else to be seen.
+
+Very carefully Patterson followed, treading softly so as to avoid even
+the chance cracking of a twig. Up the mountainside went Stiles and, some
+fifty feet behind him, crouched the convict, his faded garments blending
+perfectly with the underbrush. After half a mile or so of following a
+rude path, Stiles suddenly disappeared from view--not as if he had
+turned a corner, but suddenly, as if the earth had swallowed him.
+
+After a moment Patterson determined to investigate. When he reached the
+spot where he had last seen Stiles he looked around and almost stumbled
+against the key to the entire mystery. There in the side of the mountain
+was an opening, the entrance to a natural cave, and propped against it
+was a large wooden door, completely covered with vines.
+
+"Not a chance of finding it in the daytime unless you knew where it
+was," thought the convict as he slipped silently into the cave. Less
+than thirty feet farther was an abrupt turn, and, glancing round this,
+Patterson saw what he had been hoping for--a crowd of at least a dozen
+mountaineers gathered about a collection of small but extremely
+efficient stills. Ranged in rows along the sides of the cave were scores
+of kegs, the contents of which were obvious from the surroundings.
+
+Pausing only long enough to make certain of his bearings, the convict
+returned to the cabin and, long before Stiles came back, was sound
+asleep.
+
+It was precisely four weeks from the day when the buzzard noted the man
+on the side of the mountain, when a sheriff's posse from another county,
+accompanied by half a dozen revenue officers, rode clattering through
+Maymead and on in the direction of the Stiles cabin. Before the
+mountaineers had time to gather, the posse had surrounded the hill,
+rifles ready for action.
+
+Stiles himself met them in front of his rude home and, in response to
+his challenge as to what they wanted, the sheriff replied that he had
+come for a prisoner who had escaped from Morgantown a month or so
+before. Stiles was on the verge of declaring that he had never heard of
+the man when, to his amazement, Patterson appeared from the woods and
+surrendered.
+
+The instant the convict had gained the shelter of the government guns,
+however, a startling change took place. He held a moment's whispered
+conversation with one of the revenue officials and the latter slipped
+him a spare revolver from his holster. Then--"Hands up!" ordered the
+sheriff, and Stiles's hands shot above his head.
+
+Leaving three men to guard the cabin and keep watch over Old Man Stiles,
+whose language was searing the shrubbery, the remainder of the posse
+pushed up the mountain, directed by the pseudoconvict. It took them some
+time to locate the door to the cave, but, once inside, they found all
+the evidence they wanted--evidence not only directly indicative of
+moonshining, but the two badges which had belonged to Douglas and Wood
+and which the mountaineers had kept as souvenirs of the shooting, thus
+unwittingly providing a firm foundation for the government's case in
+court.
+
+The next morning, when Commissioner Chambers reached his office, he
+found upon his desk a wire which read:
+
+     Stiles gang rounded up without the firing of a single shot.
+     Direct evidence of complicity in Woods-Douglas murders.
+     Secret still is a secret no longer.
+
+The signature to the telegram was "James Reynolds, alias Jim Patterson."
+
+"Jim Patterson," mused the commissioner. "Where have I heard that
+name.... Of course. He's the prisoner that broke out of Morgantown a
+couple of months ago! Jimmy sure did lay the local color on thick!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"But," I inquired, as Quinn paused, "don't you consider that rather a
+dirty trick on Reynolds's part--worming himself into the confidence of
+the mountaineers and then betraying them? Besides, what about the girl?"
+
+"Dirty trick!" snorted the former Secret Service agent. "Would you think
+about ethics if some one had murdered two of the men you work next to in
+the office? It was the same thing in this case. Jimmy knew that if he
+didn't turn up that gang they'd probably account for a dozen of his
+pals--to say nothing of violating the law every day they lived! What
+else was there for him to do?
+
+"The girl? Oh, Reynolds married her. They sometimes do that, even in
+real life, you know. As I said, they're living out in the Middle West,
+for Ruth declared she never wanted to see a mountain again, and both of
+them admitted that it wouldn't be healthy to stick around within walking
+distance of Tennessee. That mountain crowd is a bad bunch to get r'iled,
+and it must be 'most time for Stiles and his friends to get out of jail.
+
+"It's a funny thing the way these government cases work out. Here was
+one that took nearly three months to solve, and the answer was the
+direct result of hard work and careful planning--while the Trenton
+taxicab tangle, for example, was just the opposite!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE TAXICAB TANGLE
+
+
+We'd been sitting on the front porch--Bill Quinn and I--discussing
+things in general for about half an hour when the subject of
+transportation cropped up and, as a collateral idea, my mind jumped to
+taxicabs, for the reason that the former Secret Service operative had
+promised to give me the details of a case which he referred to as "The
+Trenton Taxicab Tangle."
+
+"Yes," he replied, reminiscently, when I reminded him of the
+alliterative title and inquired to what it might refer, "that was one of
+the branch cases which grew out of the von Ewald chase--you remember
+Mary McNilless and the clue of Shelf Forty-five? Well, Dick Walters, the
+man who landed von Ewald, wasn't the only government detective working
+on that case in New York--not by some forty-five or fifty--and Mary
+wasn't the only pretty woman mixed up in it, either. There was that girl
+at the Rennoc switchboard....
+
+"That's another story, though. What you want is the taxicab clue."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If you remember the incidents which led up to the von Ewald affair
+[continued Quinn, as he settled comfortably back in his chair] you will
+recall that the German was the slipperiest of slippery customers. When
+Walters stumbled on his trail, through the quick wit of Mary McNilless,
+there wasn't the slightest indication that there was such a man. He was
+a myth, a bugaboo--elusive as the buzz of a mosquito around your ear.
+
+During the months they scoured New York in search for him, a number of
+other cases developed. Some of these led to very interesting
+conclusions, but the majority, as usual, flivvered into thin air.
+
+The men at headquarters, the very cream of the government services,
+gathered from all parts of the country, were naturally unable to
+separate the wheat from the chaff in advance. Night after night they
+went out on wild-goose chases and sometimes they spent weeks in
+following a promising lead--to find only blue sky and peaceful scenery
+at the end of it.
+
+Alan Whitney, who had put in two or three years rounding up
+counterfeiters for the Service, and who had been transferred to the
+Postal Inspection Service at the time of those registered mail robberies
+in the Middle West--only to be detailed to Secret Service work in
+connection with the von Ewald case--was one of the bitterest opponents
+of this forced inaction.
+
+"I don't mind trouble," Whitney would growl, "but I do hate this eternal
+strain of racing around every time the bell goes off and then finding
+that some bonehead pulled the alarm for the sheer joy of seeing the
+engines come down the street. There ought to be a law against
+irresponsible people sending in groundless 'tips'--just as there's a law
+against scandal or libel or any other information that's not founded on
+fact."
+
+But, just the same, Al would dig into every new clue with as much
+interest and energy as the rest of the boys--for there's always the
+thrill of thinking that the tip you're working on may be the right one
+after all.
+
+Whitney was in the office one morning when the phone rang and the chief
+answered it.
+
+"Yes," he heard the chief say, "this is the right place--but if your
+information is really important I would suggest that you come down and
+give it in person. Telephones are not the most reliable instruments in
+the world."
+
+A pause followed and the chief's voice again:
+
+"Well, of course we are always very glad to receive information that
+tends to throw any light on those matters, but I must confess that yours
+sounds a little vague and far-fetched. Maybe the people in the taxi
+merely wanted to find a quiet place to talk.... They got out and were
+away for nearly two hours? Hum! Thanks very much. I'll send one of our
+men over to talk to you about it, if you don't mind. What's the
+address?"
+
+A moment or two later, after the chief had replaced the receiver, he
+called out to Whitney and with a smile that he could barely conceal told
+him to catch the next train to Trenton, where, at a certain address, he
+would find a Miss Vera Norton, who possessed--or thought she
+possessed--information which would be of value to the government in
+running down the people responsible for recent bomb outrages and
+munition-plant explosions.
+
+"What's the idea, Chief?" inquired Al.
+
+"This young lady--at least her voice sounded young over the phone--says
+that she got home late from a party last night. She couldn't sleep
+because she was all jazzed up from dancing or something, so she sat near
+her window, which looks out upon a vacant lot on the corner. Along about
+two o'clock a taxicab came putt-putting up the street, stopped at the
+corner, and two men carrying black bags hopped out. The taxicab remained
+there until nearly four o'clock--three-forty-eight, Miss Norton's watch
+said--and then the two men came back, without the bags, jumped in, and
+rolled off. That's all she knows, or, at least, all she told.
+
+"When she picked up the paper round eleven o'clock this mornin' the
+first thing that caught her eye was the attempt to blow up the powder
+plant 'bout two miles from the Norton home. One paragraph of the story
+stated that fragments of a black bag had been picked up near the scene
+of the explosion, which only wrecked one of the outhouses, and the young
+lady leaped to the conclusion that her two night-owls were mixed up in
+the affair. So she called up to tip us off and get her name in history.
+Better run over and talk to her. There might be something to the
+information, after all."
+
+"Yes, there _might_," muttered Whitney, "but it's getting so nowadays
+that if you walk down the street with a purple tie on, when some one
+thinks you ought to be wearing a green one, they want you arrested as a
+spy. Confound these amateurs, anyhow! I'm a married man, Chief. Why
+don't you send Giles or one of the bachelors on this?"
+
+"For just that reason," was the reply. "Giles or one of the others would
+probably be impressed by the Norton's girl's blond hair--it must be
+blond from the way she talked--and spend entirely too much time running
+the whole thing to earth. Go on over and get back as soon as you can. We
+can't afford to overlook anything these days--neither can we afford to
+waste too much time on harvesting crops of goat feathers. Beat it!"
+
+And Whitney, still protesting, made his way to the tube and was lucky
+enough to catch a Trenton train just about to pull out of the station.
+
+Miss Vera Norton, he found, was a blond--and an extremely pretty one, at
+that. Moreover, she appeared to have more sense than the chief had given
+her credit for. After Whitney had talked to her for a few minutes he
+admitted to himself that it was just as well that Giles hadn't tackled
+the case--he might never have come back to New York, and Trenton isn't a
+big enough place for a Secret Service man to hide in safety, even when
+lured by a pair of extremely attractive gray-blue eyes.
+
+Apart from her physical charms, however, Whitney was forced to the
+conclusion that what she had seen was too sketchy to form anything that
+could be termed a real clue.
+
+"No," she stated, in reply to a question as to whether she could
+identify the men in the taxi, "it was too dark and too far off for me to
+do that. The arc light on the corner, however, gave me the impression
+that they were of medium height and rather thick set. Both of them were
+dressed in dark suits of some kind and each carried a black leather bag.
+That's what made me think that maybe they were mixed up in that
+explosion last night."
+
+"What kind of bags were they?"
+
+"Gladstones, I believe you call them. Those bags that are flat on the
+bottom and then slant upward and lock at the top."
+
+"How long was the taxi there?"
+
+"I don't know just when it did arrive, for I didn't look at my watch
+then, but it left at twelve minutes to four. I was getting mighty
+sleepy, but I determined to see how long it would stay in one place, for
+it costs money to hire a car by the hour--even one of those
+Green-and-White taxis."
+
+"Oh, it was a Green-and-White, eh?"
+
+"Yes, and I got the number, too," Miss Norton's voice fairly thrilled
+with the enthusiasm of her detective ability. "After the men had gotten
+out of the car I remembered that my opera glasses were on the bureau and
+I used them to get a look at the machine. I couldn't see anything of the
+chauffeur beyond the fact that he was hunched down on the front seat,
+apparently asleep, and the men came back in such a hurry that I didn't
+have time to get a good look at them through the glasses."
+
+"But the number," Whitney reminded her.
+
+"I've got it right here," was the reply, as the young lady dug down into
+her handbag and drew out a card. "N. Y. four, three, three, five, six,
+eight," she read. "I got that when the taxi turned around and headed
+back--to New York, I suppose. But what on earth would two men want to
+take a taxi from New York all the way to Trenton for? Why didn't they
+come on the train?"
+
+"That, Miss Norton," explained Whitney, "is the point of your story that
+makes the whole thing look rather suspicious. I will confess that when
+the chief told me what you had said over the phone I didn't place much
+faith in it. There might have been a thousand good reasons for men
+allowing a local taxi to wait at the corner, but the very fact of its
+bearing a New York number makes it a distinctly interesting incident."
+
+"Then you think that it may be a clue, after all?"
+
+"It's a clue, all right," replied the operative, "but what it's a clue
+to I can't say until we dig farther into the matter. It is probable that
+these two men had a date for a poker party or some kind of celebration,
+missed the train in New York, and took a taxi over rather than be left
+out of the party. But at the same time it's distinctly within the realms
+of possibility that the men you saw were implicated in last night's
+explosion. It'll take some time to get at the truth of the matter and,
+meanwhile, might I ask you to keep this information to yourself?"
+
+"Indeed I shall!" was the reply. "I won't tell a soul, honestly."
+
+After that promise, Al left the Norton house and made his way across
+town to where the munitions factory reared its hastily constructed head
+against the sky. Row after row of flimsy buildings, roofed with tar
+paper and giving no outward evidence of their sinister mission in
+life--save for the high barbed-wire fence that inclosed them--formed the
+entire plant, for there shells were not made, but loaded, and the
+majority of the operations were by hand.
+
+When halted at the gate, Whitney found that even his badge was of no use
+in securing entrance. Evidently made cautious by the events of the
+preceding night, the guard refused to admit anyone, and even hesitated
+about taking Al's card to the superintendent. The initials "U. S. S. S."
+finally secured him admittance and such information as was available.
+
+This, however, consisted only of the fact that some one had cut the
+barbed wire at an unguarded point and had placed a charge of explosive
+close to one of the large buildings. The one selected was used
+principally as a storehouse. Otherwise, as the superintendent indicated
+by an expressive wave of his hand, "it would have been good night to the
+whole place."
+
+"Evidently they didn't use a very heavy charge," he continued, "relying
+upon the subsequent explosions from the shells inside to do the damage.
+If they'd hit upon any other building there'd be nothing but a hole in
+the ground now. As it is, the damage won't run over a few thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Were the papers right in reporting that you picked some fragments of a
+black bag not far from the scene of the explosion?" Whitney asked.
+
+"Yes, here they are," and the superintendent produced three pieces of
+leather from a drawer in his desk. "Two pieces of the top and what is
+evidently a piece of the side."
+
+Whitney laid them on the desk and examined them carefully for a few
+moments. Then:
+
+"Notice anything funny about these?" he inquired.
+
+"No. What's the matter?"
+
+"Not a thing in the world, except that the bag must have had a very
+peculiar lock."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Here--I'll show you," and Whitney tried to put the two pieces of metal
+which formed the lock together. But, inasmuch as both of them were
+slotted, they wouldn't join.
+
+"Damnation!" exclaimed the superintendent. "What do you make of that?"
+
+"That there were two bags instead of one," stated Whitney, calmly.
+"Coupled with a little information which I ran into before I came over
+here, it begins to look as if we might land the men responsible for this
+job before they're many hours older."
+
+Ten minutes later he was on his way back to New York, not to report at
+headquarters, but to conduct a few investigations at the headquarters of
+the Green-and-White Taxicab Company.
+
+"Can you tell me," he inquired of the manager in charge, "just where
+your taxi bearing the license number four, three, three, five, six,
+eight was last night?"
+
+"I can't," said the manager, "but we'll get the chauffeur up here and
+find out in short order.
+
+"Hello!" he called over an office phone. "Who has charge of our cab
+bearing license number four, three, three, five, six, eight?... Murphy?
+Is he in?... Send him up--I'd like to talk to him."
+
+A few moments later a beetle-jawed and none too cleanly specimen of the
+genus taxi driver swaggered in and didn't even bother to remove his cap
+before sitting down.
+
+"Murphy," said the Green-and-White manager, "where was your cab last
+night?"
+
+"Well, let's see," commenced the chauffeur. "I took a couple to the
+Amsterdam The-ayter in time for th' show an' then picked up a fare on
+Broadway an' took him in the Hunnerd-an'-forties some place. Then I
+cruised around till the after-theater crowd began to come up an'--an' I
+got one more fare for Yonkers. Another long trip later on made it a
+pretty good night."
+
+"Murphy," cut in Whitney, edging forward into the conversation, "where
+and at just what hour of the night did those two Germans offer you a
+hundred dollars for the use of your car all evening?"
+
+"They didn't offer me no hunnerd dollars," growled the chauffeur, "they
+gave me...." Then he checked himself suddenly and added, in an
+undertone, "I don't know nothin' 'bout no Goimans."
+
+"The hell you don't!" snarled Whitney, edging toward the door. "Back up
+against that desk and keep your hands on top of it, or I'll pump holes
+clean through you!"
+
+His right hand was in his coat pocket, the fingers closed around what
+was very palpably the butt of an automatic. Murphy could see the outline
+of the weapon and obeyed instructions, while Whitney slammed the door
+with his left hand.
+
+"Now look here," he snapped, taking a step nearer to the taxi driver, "I
+want the truth and I want it quick! Also, it's none of your business why
+I want it! But you better come clean if you know what's good for you.
+Out with it! Where did you meet 'em and where did you drive 'em?"
+
+Realizing that escape was cut off and thoroughly cowed by the display of
+force, Murphy told the whole story--or as much of it as he knew.
+
+"I was drivin' down Broadway round Twenty-eig't Street last night, 'bout
+ten o'clock," he confessed. "I'd taken that couple to the the-ayter,
+just as I told you, an' that man up to Harlem. Then one of these t'ree
+guys hailed me...."
+
+"Three?" interrupted Whitney.
+
+"That's what I said--t'ree! They said they wanted to borrow my machine
+until six o'clock in th' mornin' an' would give me two hunnerd dollars
+for it. I told 'em there was nothin' doin' an' they offered me
+two-fifty, swearin' that they'd have it back at th' same corner at six
+o'clock sharp. Two hunnerd an' fifty bones being a whole lot more than I
+could make in a night, I gambled with 'em an' let 'em have th' machine,
+makin' sure that I got the coin foist. They drove off, two of 'em
+inside, an' I put in th' rest of th' night shootin' pool. When I got to
+th' corner of Twenty-eig't at six o'clock this mornin', there wasn't any
+sign of 'em--but th' car was there, still hot from the hard ride they
+give her. That's all I know--'shelp me Gawd!"
+
+"Did the men have any bags with them?"
+
+"Bags? No, not one."
+
+"What did they look like?"
+
+"The one that talked with me was 'bout my heig't an' dressed in a dark
+suit. He an' th' others had their hats pulled down over their eyes, so's
+I couldn't see their faces."
+
+"Did he talk with a German accent?"
+
+"He sure did. I couldn't hardly make out what he was sayin'. But his
+money talked plain enough."
+
+"Yes, and it's very likely to talk loud enough to send you to the pen if
+you're not careful!" was Whitney's reply. "If you don't want to land
+there, keep your mouth shut about this. D'you get me?"
+
+"I do, boss, I do."
+
+"And you've told me all the truth--every bit of it?"
+
+"Every little bit."
+
+"All right. Clear out!"
+
+When Murphy left the room, Whitney turned to the manager and, with a wry
+smile, remarked: "Well, we've discovered where the car came from and how
+they got it. But that's all. We're really as much in the dark as
+before."
+
+"No," replied the manager, musingly. "Not quite as much. Possibly you
+don't know it, but we have a device on every car that leaves this garage
+to take care of just such cases as this--to prevent drivers from running
+their machines all over town without pulling down the lever and then
+holding out the fares on us. Just a minute and I'll show you.
+
+"Joe," he called, "bring me the record tape of Murphy's machine for last
+night and hold his car till you hear from me."
+
+"This tape," he explained, a few minutes later, "is operated something
+along the lines of a seismograph or any other instrument for detecting
+change in direction. An inked needle marks these straight lines and
+curves all the time the machine is moving, and when it is standing still
+it oscillates slightly. By glancing at these tapes we can tell when any
+chauffeur is holding out on us, for it forms a clear record--not only of
+the distance the machine has traveled, but of the route it followed."
+
+"Doesn't the speedometer give you the distance?" asked Whitney.
+
+"Theoretically, yes. But it's a very simple matter to disconnect a
+speedometer, while this record is kept in a locked box and not one
+driver in ten even knows it's there. Now, let's see what Murphy's record
+tape tells us....
+
+"Yes, here's the trip to the theater around eight-thirty. See the sharp
+turn from Fifth Avenue into Forty-second Street, the momentary stop in
+front of the Amsterdam, and the complete sweep as he turned around to
+get back to Broadway. Then there's the journey up to the Bronx or Harlem
+or wherever he went, another complete turn and an uninterrupted trip
+back down on Broadway."
+
+"Then this," cut in Whitney, unable to keep the excitement out of his
+voice, "is where he stopped to speak to the Germans?"
+
+"Precisely," agreed the other, "and, as you'll note, that stop was
+evidently longer than either of the other two. They paid their fares,
+while Murphy's friends had to be relieved of two hundred and fifty
+dollars."
+
+"From there on is what I'm interested in," announced Whitney. "What does
+the tape say?"
+
+"It doesn't _say_ anything," admitted the manager, with a smile. "But it
+_indicates_ a whole lot. In fact, it blazes a blood-red trail that you
+ought to be able to follow with very little difficulty. See, when the
+machine started it kept on down Broadway--in fact, there's no sign of a
+turn for several blocks."
+
+"How many?"
+
+"That we can't tell--now. But we can figure it up very accurately later.
+The machine then turned to the right and went west for a short distance
+only--stopped for a few moments--and then went on, evidently toward the
+ferry, for here's a delay to get on board, here's a wavy line evidently
+made by the motion of the boat when the hand ought to have been
+practically at rest, and here's where they picked up the trip to
+Trenton. Evidently they didn't have to stop until they got there,
+because we have yards of tape before we reach a stop point, and then the
+paper is worn completely through by the action of the needle in
+oscillating, indicative of a long period of inaction. The return trip is
+just as plain."
+
+"But," Whitney objected, "the whole thing hinges on where they went
+before going to Trenton. Murphy said they didn't have any bags, so they
+must have gone home or to some rendezvous to collect them. How are we
+going to find the corner where the machine turned?"
+
+"By taking Murphy's car and driving it very carefully south on Broadway
+until the tape indicates precisely the distance marked on this one--the
+place where the turn was made. Then, driving down that street, the
+second distance shown on the tape will give you approximately the house
+you're looking for!"
+
+"Good Lord," exclaimed Whitney, "that's applying science to it! Sherlock
+Holmes wasn't so smart, after all!"
+
+Al and the manager agreed that there was too much traffic on Broadway in
+the daytime or early evening to attempt the experiment, but shortly
+after midnight, belated pedestrians might have wondered why a
+Green-and-White taxicab containing two men proceeded down Broadway at a
+snail's pace, while every now and then it stopped and one of the men got
+out to examine something inside.
+
+"I think this is the corner," whispered the garage manager to Whitney,
+when they reached Eighth Street, "but to be sure, we'll go back and try
+it over again, driving at a normal pace. It's lucky that this is a new
+instrument and therefore very accurate."
+
+The second trial produced the same result as the first--the place they
+sought lay a few blocks west of Broadway, on Eighth.
+
+Before they tried to find out the precise location of the house, Whitney
+phoned to headquarters and requested loan of a score of men to assist
+him in the contemplated raid.
+
+"Tell 'em to have their guns handy," he ordered, "because we may have
+to surround the block and search every house."
+
+But the taxi tape rendered that unnecessary. It indicated any one of
+three adjoining houses on the north side of the street, because, as the
+manager pointed out, the machine had not turned round again until it
+struck a north-and-south thoroughfare, hence the houses must be on the
+north side.
+
+By this time the reserves were on hand and, upon instructions from
+Whitney, spread out in a fan-shaped formation, completely surrounding
+the houses, front and rear. At a blast from a police whistle they
+mounted the steps and, not waiting for the doors to be opened, went
+through them shoulders first.
+
+It was Whitney, who had elected to assist in the search of the center
+house, who captured his prey in a third-floor bedroom.
+
+Before the Germans knew what was happening Al was in the room, his
+flashlight playing over the floor and table in a hasty search for
+incriminating evidence. It didn't take long to find it, either. In one
+corner, only partly concealed by a newspaper whose flaring headlines
+referred to the explosion of the night before, was a collection of bombs
+which, according to later expert testimony was sufficient to blow a
+good-sized hole in the city of New York.
+
+That was all they discovered at the time, but a judicious use of the
+third degree--coupled with promises of leniency--induced one of the
+prisoners to loosen up the next day and he told the whole
+story--precisely as the taxi tape and Vera Norton had told it. The only
+missing ingredient was the power behind the plot--the mysterious "No.
+859"--whom Dick Walters later captured because of the clue on Shelf
+forty-five.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"So you see," commented Quinn as he finished, "the younger Pitt wasn't
+so far wrong when he cynically remarked that 'there is a Providence that
+watches over children, imbeciles, and the United States.' In this case
+the principal clues were a book from the Public Library, the chance
+observations of a girl who couldn't sleep and a piece of white paper
+with some red markings on it.
+
+"At that, though, it's not the first time that German agents have gotten
+into trouble over a scrap of paper."
+
+"What happened to Vera Norton?" I inquired.
+
+"Beyond a little personal glory, not a thing in the world," replied
+Quinn. "Didn't I tell you that Al was married? You're always looking for
+romance, even in everyday life. Besides, if he had been a bachelor,
+Whitney was too busy trying to round up the other loose ends of the
+Ewald case. 'Number eight fifty-nine' hadn't been captured then, you
+remember.
+
+"Give me a match--my pipe's gone out. No, I can't smoke it here; it's
+too late. But speaking of small clues that lead to big things, some day
+soon I'll tell you the story of how a match--one just like this, for all
+I know--led to the uncovering of one of the most difficult smuggling
+cases that the Customs Service ever tried to solve."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+A MATCH FOR THE GOVERNMENT
+
+
+"I wonder how long it will take," mused Bill Quinn, as he tossed aside a
+copy of his favorite fictional monthly, "to remove the ethical
+restrictions which the war placed upon novels and short stories? Did you
+ever notice the changing style in villains, for example? A decade or so
+ago it was all the rage to have a Japanese do the dirty work--for then
+we were taking the 'yellow peril' rather seriously and it was reflected
+in our reading matter. The tall, well-dressed Russian, with a sinister
+glitter in his black eyes, next stepped upon the scene, to be followed
+by the villain whose swarthy complexion gave a hint of his Latin
+ancestry.
+
+"For the past few years, of course, every real villain has had to have
+at least a touch of Teutonic blood to account for the various
+treacheries which he tackles. I don't recall a single novel--or a short
+story, either--that has had an English or French villain who is foiled
+in the last few pages. I suppose you'd call it the _entente cordiale_ of
+the novelists, a sort of concerted attempt by the writing clan to do
+their bit against the Hun. And mighty good propaganda it was, too....
+
+"But, unfortunately, the detective of real life can't always tell by
+determining a man's nationality whether he's going to turn out to be a
+crook or a hero. When you come right down to it, every country has about
+the same proportion of each and it's only by the closest observation
+that one can arrive at a definite and fact-supported conclusion.
+
+"Details--trifles unnoticed in themselves--play a far larger part in the
+final denouement than any preconceived ideas or fanciful theories. There
+was the case of Ezra Marks and the Dillingham diamonds, for example...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ezra [continued the former Secret Service operative, when he had eased
+his game leg into a position where it no longer gave him active trouble]
+was all that the name implied. Born in Vermont, of a highly puritanical
+family, he had been named for his paternal grandfather and probably also
+for some character from the Old Testament. I'm not awfully strong on
+that Biblical stuff myself.
+
+It wasn't long after he grew up, however, that life on the farm began to
+pall. He found a copy of the life of Alan Pinkerton somewhere and read
+it through until he knew it from cover to cover. As was only natural in
+a boy of his age, he determined to become a great detective, and drifted
+down to Boston with that object in view. But, once in the city, he found
+that "detecting" was a little more difficult than he had imagined, and
+finally agreed to compromise by accepting a very minor position in the
+Police Department. Luckily, his beat lay along the water front and he
+got tangled up in two or three smuggling cases which he managed to
+unravel in fine shape, and, in this way, attracted the attention of the
+Customs Branch of the Treasury Department, which is always on the
+lookout for new timber. It's a hard life, you know, and one which
+doesn't constitute a good risk for an insurance company. So there are
+always gaps to be filled--and Ezra plugged up one of them very nicely.
+
+As might have been expected, the New Englander was hardly ever addressed
+by his full name. "E. Z." was the title they coined for him, and "E. Z."
+he was from that time on--at least to everyone in the Service. The
+people on the other side of the fence, however, the men and women who
+look upon the United States government as a joke and its laws as hurdles
+over which they can jump whenever they wish--found that this Mark was
+far from an easy one. He it was who handled the Wang Foo opium case in
+San Diego in nineteen eleven. He nailed the gun runners at El Paso when
+half a dozen other men had fallen down on the assignment, and there were
+at least three Canadian cases which bore the imprint of his latent
+genius on the finished reports.
+
+His particular kind of genius was distinctly out of the ordinary, too.
+He wasn't flashy and he was far from a hard worker. He just stuck around
+and watched everything worth watching until he located the tip he
+wanted. Then he went to it--and the case was finished!
+
+The chap who stated that "genius is the capacity for infinite attention
+to details" had Ezra sized up to a T. And it was one of these
+details--probably the most trifling one of all--that led to his most
+startling success.
+
+Back in the spring of nineteen twelve the European agents of the
+Treasury Department reported to Washington that a collection of uncut
+diamonds, most of them rather large, had been sold to the German
+representative of a firm in Rotterdam. From certain tips which they
+picked up, however, the men abroad were of the opinion that the stones
+were destined for the United States and advised that all German boats be
+carefully watched, because the Dillingham diamonds--as the collection
+was known--had been last heard of en route to Hamburg and it was to be
+expected that they would clear from there.
+
+The cablegram didn't cause any wild excitement in the Treasury
+Department. European agents have a habit of trying to stir up trouble in
+order to make it appear that they are earning their money and then they
+claim that the people over here are not always alert enough to follow
+their tips. It's the old game of passing the buck. You have to expect it
+in any business.
+
+But, as events turned out, the men on the other side were dead right.
+
+Almost before Washington had time officially to digest the cable and to
+mail out the stereotyped warnings based upon it, a report filtered in
+from Wheeling, West Virginia, that one of the newly made coal
+millionaires in that section had invested in some uncut diamonds as
+large as the end of your thumb. The report came in merely as a routine
+statement, but it set the customs authorities to thinking.
+
+Uncut stones, you know, are hard to locate, either when they are being
+brought in or after they actually arrive. Their color is dull and
+slatelike and there is little to distinguish them from other and far
+less valuable pebbles. Of course, there might not be the slightest
+connection in the world between the Wheeling diamonds and those of the
+Dillingham collection--but then, on the other hand, there might....
+
+Hence, it behooved the customs people to put on a little more speed and
+to watch the incoming steamers just as carefully as they knew how.
+
+Some weeks passed and the department had sunk back into a state of
+comfortable ease--broken only occasionally by a minor case or two--when
+a wire arrived one morning stating that two uncut diamonds had appeared
+in New York under conditions which appeared distinctly suspicious. The
+owner had offered them at a price 'way under the market figure, and
+then, rather than reply to one or two questions relative to the history
+of the stones, had disappeared. There was no record of the theft of any
+diamonds answering to the description of those seen in Maiden Lane, and
+the police force inquired if Washington thought they could have been
+smuggled.
+
+"Of course they could," snorted the chief. "But there's nothing to prove
+it. Until we get our hands upon them and a detailed description of the
+Dillingham stones, it's impossible to tell."
+
+So he cabled abroad for an accurate list of the diamonds which had been
+sold a couple of months earlier, with special instructions to include
+any identifying marks, as it was essential to spot the stones before a
+case could be built up in court.
+
+The following Tuesday a long dispatch from Rotterdam reached the
+department, stating, among other things, that one of the Dillingham
+diamonds could be distinguished by a heart-shaped flaw located just
+below the surface. That same afternoon came another wire from New York
+to the effect that two rough stones, answering to the description of the
+ones alluded to in a previous message, had turned up in the jewelry
+district after passing through half a dozen underground channels.
+
+"Has one of the diamonds a heart-shaped flaw in it?" the chief inquired
+by wire.
+
+"It has," came back the response. "How did you know it?"
+
+"I didn't," muttered the head of the Customs Service, "but I took a
+chance. The odds were twenty to one against me, but I've seen these long
+shots win before. Now," ringing for Mahoney, his assistant, "we'll see
+what can be done to keep the rest of that collection from drifting
+in--if it hasn't already arrived."
+
+"Where's Marks located now?" the chief inquired when Mahoney entered.
+
+"Somewhere in the vicinity of Buffalo, I believe. He's working on that
+Chesbro case, the one in connection with--"
+
+"I know," cut in the chief. "But that's pin money compared with this
+matter of the Dillingham diamonds. Thousands of dollars are at stake
+here, against hundreds there. Besides, if this thing ever leaks out to
+the papers we'll never hear the last of it. The New York office isn't in
+any too strong as it is. Wire Marks to drop the trail of those silk
+hounds and beat it to New York as fast as he can. He'll find real work
+awaiting him there--something that ought to prove a test of the
+reputation he's built up on the other three borders. Hurry it up!"
+
+"E. Z." found the message awaiting him when he returned to his hotel
+that night, and without the slightest symptom of a grouch grabbed the
+next train for New York. As he told me later, he didn't mind in the
+least dropping the silk matter, because he had put in the better part of
+a month on it and didn't seem any closer than when he started.
+
+It took Ezra less than five minutes to get all the dope the New York
+office had on the case--and it took him nearly six months to solve it.
+
+"The two diamonds in Wheeling and the two that turned up here are the
+only ones we know about," said the man in charge of the New York office.
+"The original Dillingham collection contained twenty-one rough
+stones--but whether the other seventeen have already been brought in or
+whether the people who are handling them have shipped them elsewhere is
+wholly problematical. The chief learned about the heart-shaped flaw from
+our man at Rotterdam, so that identifies one of the stones. But at the
+same time it doesn't help us in the least--for we can't handle the case
+from this end."
+
+"Same rules as on the Coast, eh?" inquired Marks.
+
+"Precisely. You've got to tackle the other end of the game. No rummaging
+around here, trying to pick up the trail that ends with the stone in
+Maiden Lane. As you know, this bunch is pretty well organized, wheels
+within wheels and fences on fences. You get something on one of them and
+the rest of the crowd will perjure themselves black in the face to get
+him off, with the result that your case will be laughed out of court and
+the man you're really after--the chap who's running the stones under
+your nose--is a thousand miles away with a grin on his face. You've got
+to land him first and the others later, if the chief wants them. The
+chances are, though, that he'll be well satisfied to have the goods on
+the crook that's doing the main part of the work."
+
+"Well," drawled Marks, "I trust he gets his satisfaction. Got any ideas
+on the matter?"
+
+"Nary an idea. The stones were sold abroad and presumably they were
+headed for Hamburg--which would appear to point to a German boat. Four
+of them, supposedly--one of them, certainly--turned up here without
+passing through the office or paying the customary duty. Now go to it!"
+
+When Marks got back to his hotel and started to think the problem over,
+he had to admit that there wasn't very much to "go to." It was the
+thinnest case he had ever tackled--a perfect circle of a problem,
+without the slightest sign of a beginning, save the one which was
+barred.
+
+Anxious as he was to make good, he had to concede that the department's
+policy of working from the other end of the case was the right course to
+follow. He had heard of too many arrests that fell flat, too many weary
+weeks of work that went for nothing--because the evidence was
+insufficient--not to realize the justice of the regulations that
+appeared to hamper him.
+
+"No," he thought, as he half dreamed over a pipe-load of tobacco, "the
+case seems to be impregnable. But there must be some way to jimmy into
+it if you try long enough."
+
+His first move was the fairly obvious one of searching the newspaper
+files to discover just what ships had docked during the ten days
+previous to the appearance of the stones in Wheeling. But this led
+nowhere, because that week had been a very busy one in maritime circles.
+The _Celtic_, the _Mauretania_, the _Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse_, the
+_Kronprinzessin Cecelie_, the _Deutschland_ and a host of other smaller
+vessels had landed within that time.
+
+Just as a check upon his observations, he examined the records for the
+week preceding the first appearance of the diamonds in New York. Here
+again he ran into a snag, but one which enabled him to eliminate at
+least half of the vessels he had considered before. However, there still
+remained a sufficient number to make it impossible to watch all of them
+or even to fix upon two or three which appeared more suspicious than the
+others.
+
+The information from abroad pointed to the fact that a German boat was
+carrying the diamonds, but, Marks figured, there was nothing in the
+world to prevent the stones from being taken into England or France or
+Italy and reshipped from there. They had turned up in the United States,
+so why couldn't they have been slipped through the customs of other
+countries just as easily?
+
+The one point about the whole matter that appeared significant to him
+was that two stones had been reported in each case--a pair in Wheeling
+and another pair in New York. This evidence would be translated either
+to mean that the smugglers preferred to offer the diamonds in small
+lots, so as not to center suspicion too sharply in their movements, or
+that the space which they used to conceal the stones was extremely
+limited.
+
+Marks inclined to the latter theory, because two stones, rather than
+one, had been offered in each instance. If the whole lot had been run
+in, he argued, the men responsible would market them singly, rather than
+in pairs. This would not detract in the slightest from the value of the
+stones, as it isn't easy to match rough diamonds and thus increase their
+market value.
+
+Having settled this matter to his own satisfaction and being convinced
+that, as not more than two stones were being run in at one time, it
+would take at least eight more trips to import the entire shipment,
+"E. Z." settled down to a part of the government detective's work which
+is the hardest and the most necessary in his life--that which can best
+be characterized by the phrase "watchful waiting."
+
+For weeks at a time he haunted the docks and wharves along the New York
+water front. His tall, angular figure became a familiar sight at every
+landing place and his eyes roamed restlessly over the crowds that came
+down the gangplank. In a number of instances he personally directed the
+searching of bags and baggage which appeared to be suspicious. Save for
+locating a few bolts of valuable lace and an oil painting concealed in
+the handle of a walking stick which was patently hollow, he failed to
+turn up a thing.
+
+The only ray of hope that he could glimpse was the fact that, since he
+had been assigned to the case, four more stones had been reported--again
+in pairs. This proved that his former reasoning had been correct and
+also that the smugglers evidently intended to bring in all of the
+twenty-one stones, two at a time. But when he came to catalog the hiding
+places which might be used to conceal two articles of the size of the
+stones already spotted, he was stumped. The list included a walking
+stick, the heels of a pair of women's shoes, two dummy pieces of candy
+concealed in a box of real confections, a box of talcum, a bag of
+marbles, the handle of an umbrella, or any one of a number of other
+trinkets which travelers carry as a matter of course or bring home as
+curios or gifts.
+
+Finally, after two solid months of unproductive work, he boarded the
+midnight train for Washington and strolled into the chief's office the
+following morning, to lay his cards on the table.
+
+"Frankly," he admitted, "I haven't accomplished a thing. I'm as far from
+breaking into the circle as I was at the beginning, and, so far as I can
+see, there isn't any hope of doing it for some time to come."
+
+"Well," inquired the chief, "do you want to be relieved of the case or
+do you want me to drop the matter entirely--to confess that the Customs
+Service has been licked by a single clever smuggler?"
+
+"Not at all!" and Marks's tone indicated that such a thought had never
+entered his head. "I want the Service to stick with the case and I want
+to continue to handle it. But I do want a definite assurance of time."
+
+"How much time?"
+
+"That I can't say. The only lead I've located--and that isn't sufficient
+to be dignified by the term 'clue'--will take weeks and probably months
+to run to earth. I don't see another earthly trail to follow, but I
+would like to have time to see whether this one leads anywhere."
+
+"All right," agreed the chief, fully realizing what "E. Z." was up
+against and not being hurried by any pressure from the outside--for the
+case had been carefully kept out of the newspapers--"this is September.
+Suppose we say the first of the year? How does that suit you?"
+
+"Fair enough, if that's the best you can do."
+
+"I'm afraid it is," was the comment from across the desk, "because
+that's all the case is worth to us. Your time is valuable and we can't
+afford to spend a year on any case--unless it's something as big as the
+sugar frauds. Stick with it until New Year's, and if nothing new
+develops before then we'll have to admit we're licked and turn you loose
+on something else."
+
+"Thanks, Chief," said Marks, getting up from his chair. "You can depend
+upon my doing everything possible in the next three months to locate the
+leak and I surely appreciate your kindness in not delivering an
+ultimatum that you want the smuggler or my job. But then I guess you
+know that I couldn't work any harder than I'm going to, anyhow."
+
+"Possibly," agreed the head of the Service, "and then, again, it may be
+because I have confidence that you'll turn the trick within the year.
+Want any help from this end?"
+
+"No, thanks. This looks like a one-man game and it ought not to take
+more than one man to finish it. A whole bunch of people always clutter
+up the place and get you tangled in their pet theories and personal
+ideas. What I would like, though, is to be kept in close touch with any
+further developments concerning stones that appear later on--where they
+are located--their exact weight and diameter, and any other facts that
+might indicate a possible hiding place."
+
+"You'll get that, all right," promised the chief. "And I trust that
+you'll develop a red-hot trail of your own before January first."
+
+With that Marks shook hands and started back to New York, fairly well
+pleased with the results of his trip, but totally disgusted with the
+lack of progress which he had made since leaving Buffalo.
+
+Early in October a message from Washington informed him that a couple of
+uncut diamonds had turned up in Cincinnati, stones which answered to the
+description of a pair in the Dillingham collection.
+
+Around the 10th of November another pair was heard from in Boston, and
+anyone who was familiar with Marks and his methods would have noted a
+tightening of the muscles around his mouth and a narrowing of his eyes
+which always indicated that he was nearing the solution of a difficulty.
+
+After receiving the November message he stopped haunting the wharves and
+commenced to frequent the steamship offices of the Hamburg-American,
+North German Lloyd and Llanarch lines. The latter, as you probably know,
+is operated by Welsh and British capital and runs a few small boats
+carrying passengers who would ordinarily travel second class, together
+with a considerable amount of freight.
+
+When the first day of December dawned, Marks drew a deep-red circle
+around the name of the month on his calendar and emitted a prayerful
+oath, to the effect he'd "be good and eternally damned if that month
+didn't contain an unexpected Christmas present for a certain person." He
+made no pretense of knowing who the person was--but he did feel that he
+was considerably closer to his prey than he had been five months before.
+
+Fate, as some one has already remarked, only deals a man a certain
+number of poor hands before his luck changes. Sometimes it gets worse,
+but, on the average, it improves. In Ezra Marks's case Fate took the
+form of a storm at sea, one of those winter hurricanes that sweep
+across the Atlantic and play havoc with shipping.
+
+Ezra was patiently waiting for one of three boats. Which one, he didn't
+know--but by the process of elimination he had figured to a mathematical
+certainty that one of them ought to carry two uncut diamonds which were
+destined never to visit the customs office. Little by little, through
+the months that had passed, he had weeded out the ships which failed to
+make port at the time the diamonds arrived--calculating the time by the
+dates on which the stones appeared elsewhere--and there were only three
+ships left. One of them was a North German Lloyder, the second belonged
+to the Hamburg-American fleet, and the third possessed an
+unpronounceable Welsh name and flew the pennant of the Llanarch line.
+
+As it happened, the two German ships ran into the teeth of the gale and
+were delayed three days in their trip, while the Welsh boat missed the
+storm entirely and docked on time.
+
+Two days later came a message from Washington to the effect that two
+diamonds, uncut, had been offered for sale in Philadelphia.
+
+"Have to have one more month," replied Marks. "Imperative! Can
+practically guarantee success by fifteenth of January"--for that was the
+date on which the Welsh ship was due to return.
+
+"Extension granted," came the word from Washington. "Rely on you to make
+good. Can't follow case any longer than a month under any
+circumstances."
+
+Marks grinned when he got that message. The trap was set, and, unless
+something unforeseen occurred, "E. Z." felt that the man and the method
+would both be in the open before long.
+
+When the Welsh ship was reported off quarantine in January, Marks
+bundled himself into a big fur coat and went down the bay in one of the
+government boats, leaving instructions that, the moment the ship docked,
+she was to be searched from stem to stern.
+
+"Don't overlook as much as a pill box or a rat hole," he warned his
+assistants, and more than a score of men saw to it that his instructions
+were carried out to the letter.
+
+Beyond exhibiting his credentials, Marks made no effort to explain why
+the ship was under suspicion. He watched the deck closely to prevent the
+crew from throwing packages overboard, and as soon as they reached dock
+he requested all officers to join him in one of the big rooms belonging
+to the Customs Service. There he explained his reasons for believing
+that some one on board was guilty of defrauding the government out of
+duty on a number of uncut diamonds.
+
+"What's more," he concluded, at the end of an address which was
+purposely lengthy in order to give his men time to search the ship, "I
+am willing to stake my position against the fact that two more diamonds
+are on board the ship at this moment!"
+
+Luckily, no one took him up--for he was wrong.
+
+The captain, pompous and self-assertive, preferred to rise and rant
+against the "infernal injustice of this high-handed method."
+
+Marks settled back to listen in silence and his fingers strayed to the
+side pocket of his coat where his pet pipe reposed. His mind strayed to
+the thought of how his men were getting along on the ship, and he
+absent-mindedly packed the pipe and struck a match to light it.
+
+It was then that his eye fell upon the man seated beside him--Halley,
+the British first mate of the steamer. He had seen him sitting there
+before, but had paid little attention to him. Now he became aware of
+the fact that the mate was smoking a huge, deep-bowled meerschaum pipe.
+At least, it had been in his mouth ever since he entered, ready to be
+smoked, but unlighted.
+
+Almost without thinking about it, Marks leaned forward and presented the
+lighted match, holding it above the mate's pipe.
+
+"Light?" he inquired, in a matter-of-fact tone.
+
+To his amazement, the other started back as if he had been struck, and
+then, recovering himself, muttered: "No, thanks. I'm not smoking."
+
+"Not smoking?" was the thought that flashed through Marks's head, "then
+why--"
+
+But the solution of the matter flashed upon him almost instantly. Before
+the mate had time to move, Marks's hand snapped forward and seized the
+pipe. With the same movement he turned it upside down and rapped the
+bowl upon the table. Out fell a fair amount of tobacco, followed by two
+slate-colored pebbles which rolled across the table under the very eyes
+of the captain!
+
+"I guess that's all the evidence we need!" Marks declared, with a laugh
+of relief. "You needn't worry about informing your consul and entering a
+protest, Captain Williams. I'll take charge of your mate and these
+stones and you can clear when you wish."
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE GIRL AT THE SWITCHBOARD
+
+
+"When you come right down to it," mused Bill Quinn, "women came as near
+to winning the late but unlamented war as did any other single factor.
+
+"The Food Administration placarded their statement that 'Food Will Win
+the War' broadcast throughout the country, and that was followed by a
+whole flock of other claimants, particularly after the armistice was
+signed. But there were really only two elements that played a leading
+role in the final victory--men and guns. And women backed these to the
+limit of their powerful ability--saving food, buying bonds, doing extra
+work, wearing a smile when their hearts were torn, and going 'way out of
+their usual sphere in hundreds of cases--and making good in practically
+every one of them.
+
+"So far as we know, the Allied side presented no analogy to Mollie
+Pitcher or the other heroines of past conflicts, for war has made such
+forward steps that personal heroism on the part of women is almost
+impossible. Of course, we had Botchkareva and her 'Regiment of Death,'
+not to mention Edith Cavell, but the list is not a long one.
+
+"When it is finally completed, however, there are a few names which the
+public hasn't yet heard which will stand well toward the front. For
+example, there was Virginia Lang--"
+
+"Was she the girl at the switchboard that you mentioned in connection
+with the von Ewald case?" I interrupted.
+
+"That's the one," said Quinn, "and, what's more, she played a leading
+role in that melodrama, a play in which they didn't use property guns or
+cartridges."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Miss Lang [continued Quinn] was one of the few women I ever heard of
+that practically solved a Secret Service case "on her own." Of course,
+in the past, the different governmental detective services have found it
+to their advantage to go outside the male sex for assistance.
+
+There have been instances where women in the employ of the Treasury
+Department rendered valuable service in trailing smugglers--the matter
+of the Deauville diamonds is a case in point--and even the Secret
+Service hasn't been above using women to assist in running
+counterfeiters to earth, while the archives of the State Department
+would reveal more than one interesting record of feminine co-operation
+in connection with underground diplomacy.
+
+But in all these cases the women were employed to handle the work and
+they were only doing what they were paid for, while Virginia Lang--
+
+Well, in the first place, she was one of the girls in charge of the
+switchboard at the Rennoc in New York. You know the place--that big
+apartment hotel on Riverside Drive where the lobby is only a shade less
+imposing than the bell-boys and it costs you a month's salary to speak
+to the superintendent. They never have janitors in a place like that.
+
+Virginia herself--I came to know her fairly well in the winter of
+nineteen seventeen, after Dave Carroll had gone to the front--was well
+qualified by nature to be the heroine of any story. Rather above the
+average in size, she had luckily taken advantage of her physique to
+round out her strength with a gymnasium course. But in spite of being a
+big woman, she had the charm and personality which are more often found
+in those less tall. When you couple this with a head of wonderful hair,
+a practically perfect figure, eyes into which a man could look and,
+looking, lose himself, lips which would have caused a lip stick to blush
+and--Oh, what's the use? Words only caricature a beautiful woman, and,
+besides, if you haven't gotten the effect already, there's nothing that
+I could tell you that would help any.
+
+In the spring of nineteen sixteen, when the von Ewald chase was at its
+height, Miss Lang was employed at the Rennoc switchboard and it speaks
+well for her character when I can tell you that not one of the bachelor
+tenants ever tried a second time to put anything over. Virginia's eyes
+could snap when they wanted to and Virginia's lips could frame a cutting
+retort as readily as a pleasant phrase.
+
+In a place like the Rennoc, run as an apartment hotel, the guests change
+quite frequently, and it was some task to keep track of all of them,
+particularly when there were three girls working in the daytime, though
+only one was on at night. They took it by turns--each one working one
+week in four at night and the other three holding down the job from
+eight to six. So, as it happened, Virginia did not see Dave Carroll
+until he had been there nearly a month. He blew in from Washington early
+one evening and straightway absented himself from the hotel until
+sometime around seven the following morning, following the schedule
+right through, every night.
+
+Did you ever know Carroll? He and I worked together on the Farron case
+out in St. Louis, the one where a bookmaker at the races tipped us off
+to the biggest counterfeiting scheme ever attempted in this country, and
+after that he took part in a number of other affairs, including the one
+which prevented the Haitian revolution in nineteen thirteen.
+
+Dave wasn't what you would call good-looking, though he did have a way
+with women. The first night that he came downstairs--after a good day's
+sleep--and spotted Virginia Lang on the switchboard, he could have been
+pardoned for wandering over and trying to engage her in a conversation.
+But the only rise he got was from her eyebrows. They went up in that
+"I-am-sure-I-have-never-met-you" manner which is guaranteed to be cold
+water to the most ardent male, and the only reply she vouchsafed was
+"What number did you wish?"
+
+"You appear to have mine," Dave laughed, and then asked for Rector 2800,
+the private branch which connected with the Service headquarters.
+
+When he came out of the booth he was careful to confine himself to
+"Thank you" and the payment of his toll. But there was something about
+him that made Virginia Lang feel he was "different"--a word which, with
+women, may mean anything--or nothing. Then she returned to the reading
+of her detective story, a type of literature to which she was much
+addicted.
+
+Carroll, as you have probably surmised, was one of the more than
+twoscore Government operatives sent to New York to work on the von Ewald
+case. His was a night shift, with roving orders to wander round the
+section in the neighborhood of Columbus Circle and stand ready to get
+anywhere in the upper section of the city in a hurry in case anything
+broke. But, beyond reporting to headquarters regularly every hour, the
+assignment was not exactly eventful.
+
+The only thing that was known about von Ewald at that time was that a
+person using such a name--or alias--was in charge of the German
+intrigues against American neutrality. Already nearly a score of bomb
+outrages, attempts to destroy shipping, plots against munition plants,
+and the like had been laid at his door, but the elusive Hun had yet to
+be spotted. Indeed, there were many men in the Service who doubted the
+existence of such a person, and of these Carroll was one.
+
+But he shrugged his shoulders and stoically determined to bear the
+monotony of strolling along Broadway and up, past the Plaza, to Fifth
+Avenue and back again every night--a program which was varied only by an
+occasional seance at Reisenweber's or Pabst's, for that was in the days
+before the one-half of one per cent represented the apotheosis of liquid
+refreshment.
+
+It was while he was walking silently along Fifty-ninth Street, on the
+north side, close to the Park, a few nights after his brush with
+Virginia Lang, that Carroll caught the first definite information about
+the case that anyone had obtained.
+
+He hadn't noted the men until he was almost upon them, for the night was
+dark and the operative's rubber heels made no sound upon the pavement.
+Possibly he wouldn't have noticed them then if it hadn't been for a
+phrase or two of whispered German that floated out through the
+shrubbery.
+
+"He will stay at Conner's" was what reached Carroll's ears. "That will
+be our chance--a rare opportunity to strike two blows at once, one at
+our enemy and the other at this smug, self-satisfied nation which is
+content to make money out of the slaughter of Germany's sons. Once he is
+in the hotel, the rest will be easy."
+
+"How?" inquired a second voice.
+
+"A bomb, so arranged to explode with the slightest additional pressure,
+in a--"
+
+"Careful," growled a third man. "Eight fifty-nine would hardly care to
+have his plans spread all over New York. This cursed shrubbery is so
+dense that there is no telling who may be near. Come!"
+
+And Carroll, crouched on the outside of the fence which separates the
+street from the Park, knew that seconds were precious if he was to get
+any further information. A quick glance down the street showed him that
+the nearest gate was too far away to permit of entrance in that manner.
+So, slipping his automatic into the side pocket of his coat he leaped
+upward and grasped the top of the iron fence. On the other side he could
+hear the quick scuffle of feet as the Germans, alarmed, began to retreat
+rapidly.
+
+A quick upward heave, a purchase with his feet, and he was over, his
+revolver in his hand the instant he lighted on the other side.
+
+"Halt!" he called, more from force of habit than from anything else, for
+he had no idea that any of the trio would stop.
+
+But evidently one of them did, for from behind the shelter of a near-by
+bush came the quick spat of a revolver and a tongue of flame shot toward
+him. The bullet, however, sung harmlessly past and he replied with a
+fusillade of shots that ripped through the bush and brought a shower of
+German curses from the other side. Then another of the conspirators
+opened fire from a point at right angles to the first, and the ruse was
+successful, for it diverted Carroll's attention long enough to permit
+the escape of the first man, and the operative was still flat on the
+ground, edging his way cautiously forward when the Park police arrived,
+the vanguard of a curious crowd attracted by the shots.
+
+"What's the trouble?" demanded the "sparrow cop."
+
+"None at all," replied Dave, as he slipped the still warm revolver into
+his pocket and brushed some dirt from his sleeve. "Guy tried to hold me
+up, that's all, and I took a pot shot at him. Cut it! Secret Service!"
+and he cautiously flashed his badge in the light of the electric torch
+which the park policeman held.
+
+"Huh!" grunted the guard, as he made his way to the bush from behind
+which Carroll had been attacked. "You evidently winged him. There's
+blood on the grass here, but no sign of the bird himself. Want any
+report to headquarters?" he added, in an undertone.
+
+"Not a word," said Carroll. "I'm working this end of the game and I want
+to finish it without assistance. It's the only thing that's happened in
+a month to break the monotony and there's no use declaring anyone else
+in on it. By the way, do you know of any place in town known as
+Conner's?"
+
+"Conner's? Never heard of it. Sounds as though it might be a dive in the
+Bowery. Plenty of queer places down there."
+
+"No, it's hardly likely to be in that section of the city," Dave stated.
+"Farther uptown, I think. But it's a new one on me."
+
+"On me, too," agreed the guard, "and I thought I knew the town like a
+book."
+
+When he reported to headquarters a few moments later, Carroll told the
+chief over the wire of his brush with the trio of Germans, as well as
+what he had heard. There was more than a quiver of excitement in the
+voice from the other end of the wire, for this was the first actual
+proof of the existence of the mysterious "No. 859."
+
+"Still believe von Ewald is a myth?" inquired the Chief.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that," was the answer, "because
+the bullet that just missed me was pretty material. Evidently some one
+is planning these bomb outrages and it's up to us to nab him--if only
+for the sake of the Service."
+
+"Did you catch the name of the man to whom your friends were alluding?"
+asked the chief.
+
+"No, they just referred to him as 'he.'"
+
+"That might mean any one of a number of people," mused the chief. "Sir
+Cecil Spring-Rice is in town, you know. Stopping at the Waldorf. Then
+there's the head of the French Mission at the Vanderbilt with a bunch of
+people, and Lord Wimbledon, who's spent five million dollars for horses
+in the West, stopping at the same place you are. You might keep an eye
+on him and I'll send Kramer and Fleming up to trail the other two."
+
+"Did you ever hear of the place they called Conner's, Chief?"
+
+"No, but that doesn't mean anything. It may be a code word--a
+prearranged name to camouflage the hotel in the event anyone were
+listening in."
+
+"Possibly," replied Carroll, just before he hung up, "but somehow I have
+a hunch that it wasn't. I'll get back on the job and let you know if
+anything further develops."
+
+His adventure for the night appeared to have ended, for he climbed into
+bed the following morning without having been disturbed, but lay awake
+for an hour or more--obsessed with the idea that he really held the clue
+to the whole affair, but unable to figure out just what it was.
+
+Where was it that they intended to place the bomb? Why would they
+arrange it so as to explode upon pressure, rather than concussion or by
+a time fuse? Where was Conner's? Who was the man they were plotting
+against?
+
+These were some of the questions which raced through his brain, and he
+awoke in the late afternoon still haunted by the thought that he really
+ought to know more than he did.
+
+That night at dinner he noted, almost subconsciously, that he was served
+by a new waiter, a fact that rather annoyed him because he had been
+particularly pleased at the service rendered by the other man.
+
+"Where's Felix?" he inquired, as the new attendant brought his soup.
+
+"He isn't on to-night, sir," was the reply. "He had an accident and
+won't be here for a couple of days."
+
+"An accident?"
+
+"Yes, sir," was the laconic answer.
+
+"Anything serious?"
+
+"No, sir. He--he hurt his hand," and the waiter disappeared without
+another word. Carroll thought nothing more of it at the time, but later,
+over his coffee and a good cigar, a sudden idea struck him. Could it be
+that Felix was one of the men whom he had surprised the night before,
+the one he had fired at and hit? No, that was too much of a coincidence.
+But then Felix was manifestly of foreign origin, and, while he claimed
+to be Swiss, there was a distinct Teutonic rasp to his words upon
+occasion.
+
+Signaling to his waiter, Dave inquired whether he knew where Felix
+lived. "I'd like to know if there is anything that I can do for him," he
+gave as his reason for asking.
+
+"I haven't the slightest idea," came the answer, and Carroll was aware
+that the man was lying, for his demeanor was sullen rather than
+subservient and the customary "sir" was noticeable by its absence.
+
+Once in the lobby, Dave noticed that the pretty telephone operator was
+again at the switchboard, and the idea occurred to him that he might
+find out Felix's address from the hotel manager or head waiter.
+
+"I understand that my waiter has been hurt in an accident," the
+operative explained to the goddess of the wires, "and I'd like to find
+out where he lives. Who would be likely to know?"
+
+"The head waiter ought to be able to tell you," was the reply,
+accompanied by the flash of what Carroll swore to be the whitest teeth
+he had ever seen. "Just a moment and I will get him on the wire for
+you." Then, after a pause, "Booth Number Five, please."
+
+But Carroll got no satisfaction from that source, either. The head
+waiter maintained that he knew nothing of Felix's whereabouts and hung
+up the receiver in a manner which was distinctly final, not to say
+impolite. The very air of mystery that surrounded the missing man was
+sufficient to incline him to the belief that, after all, there might be
+something to the idea that Felix was the man he had shot at the night
+before. In that event, it was practically certain that Lord Wimbledon
+was the object of the Germans' attention--but that didn't solve the
+question of where the bomb was to be placed, nor the location of
+"Conner's."
+
+"Just the same," he muttered, half aloud, "I'm going to stick around
+here to-night."
+
+"Why that momentous decision?" came a voice almost at his elbow, a voice
+which startled and charmed him with its inflection.
+
+Looking up, he caught the eyes of the pretty telephone girl, laughing at
+him.
+
+"Talking to yourself is a bad habit," she warned him with a smile which
+seemed to hold an apology for her brusqueness of the night before,
+"particularly in your business."
+
+"My business?" echoed Dave. "What do you know about that?"
+
+"Not a thing in the world--except," and here her voice dropped to a
+whisper--"except that you are a government detective and that you've
+discovered something about Lord Wimbledon, probably some plot against
+His Lordship."
+
+"Where--how--what in the world made you think that?" stammered Carroll,
+almost gasping for breath.
+
+"Very simple," replied the girl. "Quite elementary, as Sherlock Holmes
+used to say. You called the headquarters number every night when you
+came down--the other girls tipped me off to that, for they know that I'm
+fond of detective stories. Then everybody around here knows that Felix,
+the waiter that you inquired about, is really German, though he pretends
+to be Swiss, and that he, the head waiter, and the pastry cook are thick
+as thieves."
+
+"You'd hardly expect me to say 'Yes,' would you? Particularly as I am
+supposed to be a government operative."
+
+"Now I know you are," smiled the girl. "Very few people use the word
+'operative.' They'd say 'detective' or 'agent.' But don't worry, I won't
+give you away."
+
+"Please don't," laughed Carroll, half banteringly, half in earnest, for
+it would never do to have it leak out that a girl had not only
+discovered his identity, but his mission. Then, as an after-thought, "Do
+you happen to know of any hotel or place here in town known as
+'Conner's'?" he asked.
+
+"Why, of course," was the reply, amazing in its directness. "The
+manager's name--" But then she halted abruptly, picked up a plug, and
+said, "What number, please?" into the receiver.
+
+Carroll sensed that there was a reason for her stopping in the middle of
+her sentence and, looking around, found the pussy-footed head waiter
+beside him, apparently waiting for a call. Silently damning the custom
+that made it obligatory for waiters to move without making a sound,
+Carroll wandered off across the lobby, determined to take a stroll
+around the block before settling down to his night's vigil. A stop at
+the information desk, however, rewarded him with the news that Lord
+Wimbledon was giving a dinner in his apartments the following evening to
+the British ambassador--that being all the hotel knew officially about
+his Grace's movements.
+
+"I'll take care to have half a dozen extra men on the job," Carroll
+assured himself, "for that's undoubtedly the time they would pick if
+they could get away with it. A single bomb then would do a pretty bit of
+damage."
+
+The evening brought no further developments, but shortly after midnight
+he determined to call the Rennoc, in the hope that the pretty telephone
+girl was still on duty and that she might finish telling him what she
+knew of Conner's.
+
+"Hotel Rennoc," came a voice which he recognized instantly.
+
+"This is Dave Carroll speaking," said the operative. "Can you tell me
+now what it was you started to say about Conner's?"
+
+"Not now," came the whispered reply. Then, in a louder voice, "Just a
+moment, please, and I'll see if he's registered." During the pause which
+followed Dave realized that the girl must be aware that she was watched
+by some one. Was it the silent-moving head waiter?
+
+"No, he hasn't arrived yet," was the next phrase that came over the
+wires, clearly and distinctly, followed by instructions, couched in a
+much lower tone, "Meet me, Drive entrance, one-five sure," and then a
+click as the plug was withdrawn.
+
+It was precisely five minutes past one when Carroll paused in front of
+the Riverside Drive doorway to the Rennoc, considering it the part of
+discretion to keep on the opposite side of the driveway. A moment later
+a woman, alone, left the hotel, glanced around quickly, and then crossed
+to where he was standing.
+
+"Follow me up the street," she directed in an undertone as she passed.
+"Michel has been watching like a hawk."
+
+Dave knew that Michel was the head waiter, and out of the corner of his
+eye he saw a shadow slip out of another of the hotel doorways, farther
+down the Drive, and start toward them. But when he looked around a
+couple of blocks farther up the drive, there was no one behind them.
+
+"Why all the mystery?" he inquired, as he stepped alongside the girl.
+
+"Something's afoot in the Rennoc," she replied, "and they think I
+suspect what it is and have told you about it. Michel hasn't taken his
+eyes off me all evening. I heard him boast one night that he could read
+lips, so I didn't dare tell you anything when you called up, even though
+he was across the lobby. Conner's, the place you asked about, is the
+Rennoc. Spell it backward. Conner is the manager--hence the name of the
+hotel."
+
+"Then," said Carroll, "that means that they've got a plan under way to
+bomb Lord Wimbledon and probably the British ambassador at that dinner
+to-morrow evening. I overheard one of them say last night that a bomb,
+arranged to explode at the slightest pressure, would be placed in the--"
+and then he stopped.
+
+"In the cake!" gasped the girl, as if by intuition. But her next words
+showed that her deduction had a more solid foundation. "This is to be a
+birthday dinner, in honor of Lord Percy Somebody who's in Lord
+Wimbledon's party, as well as in honor of Lord Cecil. The pastry cook,
+who's almost certainly mixed up in the plot, has plenty of opportunity
+to put the bomb there, where it would never be suspected. The instant
+they cut the cake--"
+
+But her voice trailed off in midair as something solid came down on her
+head with a crash. At the same moment Dave was sent reeling by a blow
+from a blackjack, a blow which sent him spinning across the curb and
+into the street. He was dimly aware that two men were leaping toward him
+and that a third was attacking the telephone girl.
+
+Panting, gasping, fighting for time in which to clear his head of the
+effects of the first blow, Carroll fought cautiously, but desperately,
+realizing that his opponents desired to avoid gun-play for fear of
+attracting the police. A straight left to the jaw caught one of the men
+coming in and knocked him sprawling, but the second, whom Carroll
+recognized as Michel, was more wary. He dodged and feinted with the
+skill of a professional boxer, and then launched an uppercut which went
+home on the point of Dave's jaw.
+
+It was at that moment that the operative became aware of another
+participant in the fray--a figure in white with what appeared to be a
+halo of gold around her head. The thought flashed through his mind that
+he must be dreaming, but he had sense enough left to leap aside when a
+feminine voice called "Look out!" and the arc light glinted off the
+blade of a knife as it passed perilously close to his ribs. Then the
+figure in white brought something down on Michel's head and, wheeling,
+seized the wrist of the third man in a grip of iron.
+
+Ten seconds later the entire trio was helpless and Carroll was blowing a
+police whistle for assistance.
+
+"There was really nothing to it at all," protested the telephone girl,
+during the ride in the patrol. "They made the mistake of trying to let
+Felix, with his wounded hand, take care of me. I didn't have two years
+of gym work and a complete course in jiu jitsu for nothing, and that
+blackjack came in mighty handy a moment or two later. All Felix
+succeeded in doing was to knock my hat off, and I shed my coat the
+instant I had attended to him."
+
+"That's why I thought you were a goddess in white," murmured Dave.
+
+"No goddess at all, just a girl from the switchboard who was glad to
+have a chance at the brutes. Anyhow, that few minutes beats any book I
+ever read for action!"
+
+Dave's hand stole out in the darkness as they jolted forward, and when
+it found what it was seeking, "Girl," he said, "do you realize that I
+don't even know your name?"
+
+"Lang," said a voice in the dark. "My friends call me Virginia."
+
+"After what you just did for me, I think we ought to be at least good
+friends," laughed Carroll, and the thrill of the fight which has just
+passed was as nothing when she answered:
+
+"At least that ... Dave!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Quinn paused for a moment to repack his pipe and I took advantage of the
+interruption to ask what happened at the Wimbledon dinner the following
+night.
+
+"Not a thing in the world," replied Quinn. "Everything went off like
+clockwork--everything but the bomb. As the Podunk _Gazette_ would say,
+'A very pleasant time was had by all.' But you may be sure that they
+were careful to examine the cake and the other dishes before they were
+sampled by the guests. Michel, Felix, and the cook were treated to a
+good dose of the third degree at headquarters, but without results. They
+wouldn't even admit that they knew any such person as 'Number
+Eight-fifty-nine' or von Ewald. Two of them got off with light sentences
+for assault and battery. The pastry cook, however, went to the pen when
+they found a quantity of high explosives in his room."
+
+"And Miss Lang?"
+
+"If you care to look up the marriage licenses for October, nineteen
+sixteen, you'll find that one was issued in the names of David Carroll
+and Virginia Lang. She's the wife of a captain now, for Dave left the
+Service the following year and went to France to finish his fight with
+the Hun. I saw him not long ago and the only thing that's worrying him
+is where he is going to find his quota of excitement, for he says that
+there is nothing left in the Service but chasing counterfeiters and
+guarding the resident, and he can't stand the idea of staying in the
+army and drawing his pay for wearing a uniform."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+"LOST--$100,000!"
+
+
+"I stopped on my way here to-night and laid in a supply of something
+that I don't often use--chewing gum," said Bill Quinn, formerly of the
+Secret Service, as he settled back comfortably to enjoy an evening's
+chat. "There are some professional reformers who maintain that the great
+American habit of silently working the jaws over a wad of chewing gum is
+harmful in the extreme, but if you'll look into the matter you'll find
+that agitators of that type want you to cut out all habits except those
+which they are addicted to.
+
+"Personally, I'm not a habitual worshiper at the shrine of the great god
+Goom, but there's no use denying the fact that it does soothe one's
+nerves occasionally. Incidentally, it has other uses--as Elmer Allison
+discovered not very long ago."
+
+"Yes?" I inquired, sensing the fact that Quinn had a story up his sleeve
+and was only awaiting the opportunity to spring it. "Didn't you mention
+a post-office case in which a wad of gum played a prominent role?"
+
+"That's the one," said the former government operative, easing his
+wounded leg into a less cramped position. "Here, have a couple of sticks
+just to get the proper atmosphere and I'll see if I can recall the
+details."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For some reason that's hard to define [Quinn went on, after he had
+peeled two of the dun-colored sticks and commenced work on them] crooks
+in general and amateur crooks in particular seem to regard the United
+States mails as particularly easy prey. Possibly they figure that, as
+millions of dollars are handled by the Post-office Department every
+year, a little here and there won't be missed. But if they knew the high
+percentage of mail robberies that are solved they wouldn't be so keen to
+tackle the game.
+
+Lifting valuables, once they have passed into the hands of Uncle Sam's
+postman, is a comparatively easy crime to commit. There are dozens of
+ways of doing it--methods which range all the way from fishing letters
+out of a post-box with a piece of string and a hairpin, to holding up
+the mail car in a deserted portion of a railroad track. But getting away
+with it is, as our Yiddish friends say, something else again.
+
+The annals of the Postal Inspection Service are filled with incidents
+which indicate that the High Cost of Living is down around zero compared
+to the High Cost of Crime, when said crime is aimed at the mails. There
+are scores of men in Atlanta, Leavenworth, and other Federal prisons
+whose advice would be to try murder, forgery, or arson rather than
+attempt to earn a dishonest living by stealing valuable letters.
+
+The majority of persons realize that it pays to register their money and
+insure their packages because, once this precaution has been attended
+to, the government exercises special care in the handling of these and
+makes it extremely difficult for crooks to get anywhere near them. If a
+registered letter disappears there is a clean-cut trail of signed
+receipts to follow and somebody has to bear the burden of the loss. But
+even with these precautions, the Registered Section is looted every now
+and then.
+
+One of the biggest cases of this kind on record was that which occurred
+in Columbus when letters with an aggregate value of one hundred thousand
+dollars just vanished into thin air. Of course, they didn't all
+disappear at one time, but that made it all the more mysterious--because
+the thefts were spread out over a period of some five or six weeks and
+they went on, just as regularly as clockwork, in spite of the
+precautions to the contrary.
+
+The first of the losses, as I recall it, was a shipment of ten thousand
+dollars in large bills sent by a Chicago bank to a financial concern in
+Columbus. When working on that single case, of course, the officials of
+the department were more or less in the dark as to the precise place
+that the disappearance had taken place, in spite of the fact that there
+were the usual signed slips indicating that the package had been
+received at the Columbus Post Office. But clerks who are in a hurry
+sometimes sign receipts without being any too careful to check up the
+letters or packages to which they refer--a highly reprehensible
+practice, but one which is the outgrowth of the shortage of help. It was
+quite within the bounds of possibility, for example, for the package to
+have been abstracted from the Chicago office without the loss being
+discovered until Columbus checked up on the mail which was due there.
+
+But a week or ten days later came the second of the mysterious
+disappearances--another envelope containing bills of large denomination,
+this time en route from Pittsburgh to Columbus. When a third loss
+occurred the following fortnight, the headquarters of the Postal
+Inspection Service in Washington became distinctly excited and every man
+who could be spared was turned loose in an effort to solve the problem.
+Orders were given to shadow all the employees who had access to the
+registered mail with a view to discovering whether they had made any
+change in their personal habits, whether they had displayed an unusual
+amount of money within the past month, or whether their family had shown
+signs of exceptional prosperity.
+
+It was while the chief was waiting for these reports that Elmer Allison
+blew into Washington unexpectedly and strolled into the room in the big
+gray-stone tower of what was then the Post-office Department Building,
+with the news that he had solved the "poison-pen case" in Kansas City
+and was ready to tackle something else.
+
+The chief, to put it mildly, was surprised and inquired why in the name
+of the seven hinges of Hades Allison hadn't made his report directly to
+the office by mail.
+
+"That was a pretty important case, Chief," Elmer replied, "and I didn't
+want to take any chances of the findings being lost in the registered
+mail." Then, grinning, he continued, "Understand you've been having a
+bit of trouble out in Columbus?"
+
+"Who told you about that?" growled the chief.
+
+"Oh, you can't keep things like that under your hat even if you do
+succeed in keeping them out of the papers," retorted Allison. "A little
+bird tipped me off to it three weeks ago and--"
+
+"And you determined to leap back here as soon as you could so that you
+would be assigned to the case, eh?"
+
+"You guessed it, Chief. I wanted a try at the Columbus affair and I was
+afraid I wouldn't get it unless I put the matter personally up to you.
+How 'bout it?"
+
+"As it happens, you lost about two days of valuable time in coming here,
+instead of wiring for further instructions from Kansas City," the chief
+told him. "I had intended taking you off that anonymous letter case by
+noon to-morrow, whether you'd finished it or not, for this is a far more
+important detail. Somebody's gotten away with fifty thousand dollars so
+far, and there's no--"
+
+"Pardon me, sir, but here's a wire which has just arrived from Rogers,
+in Columbus. Thought you'd like to see it at once," and the chief's
+secretary laid a yellow slip face upward on his desk. Allison, who was
+watching closely, saw a demonstration of the reason why official
+Washington maintained that the chief of the Postal Inspection Service
+had the best "poker face" in the capital. Not a muscle in his
+countenance changed as he read the telegram and then glanced up at
+Allison, continuing his sentence precisely where he had been
+interrupted:
+
+"Reason to suppose that the thief is going to stop there. This wire from
+Rogers, the postmaster at Columbus, announces the loss of a fourth
+package of bills. Fifty thousand this time. That's the biggest yet and
+it brings the total deficit up to one hundred thousand dollars. Rogers
+says that the banks are demanding instant action and threatening to take
+the case to headquarters, which means that it'll spread all over the
+papers. Congress will start an investigation, some of us will lose our
+official heads, and, in the mix-up, the man who's responsible for the
+losses will probably make a clean getaway."
+
+Then, with a glance at the clock which faced his desk, "There's a train
+for Columbus in twenty minutes, Allison. Can you make it?"
+
+"It's less than ten minutes to the station," replied the operative.
+"That gives me plenty of leeway."
+
+"Well, move and move fast," snapped the chief. "I'll wire Columbus that
+you've been given complete charge of the case; but try to keep it away
+from the papers as long as you can. The department has come in for
+enough criticism lately without complicating the issue from the
+outside. Good luck." And Allison was out of the door almost before he
+had finished speaking.
+
+Allison reached Columbus that night, but purposely delayed reporting for
+work until the following morning. In the first place there was no
+telling how long the case would run and he felt that it was the part of
+wisdom to get all the rest he could in order to start fresh. The
+"poison-pen" puzzle hadn't been exactly easy to solve, and his visit to
+Washington, though brief, had been sufficiently long for him to absorb
+some of the nervous excitement which permeated the department. Then,
+too, he figured that Postmaster Rogers would be worn out by another day
+of worry and that both of them would be the better for a night's
+undisturbed sleep.
+
+Nine o'clock the next morning, however, saw him seated in one of the
+comfortable chairs which adorned the postmaster's private office.
+Rogers, who did not put in an appearance until ten, showed plainly the
+results of the strain under which he was laboring, for he was a
+political appointee who had been in office only a comparatively short
+time, a man whose temperament resented the attacks launched by the
+opposition and who felt that publication of the facts connected with the
+lost one hundred thousand dollars would spell ruin, both to his own
+hopes and those of the local organization.
+
+Allison found that the chief had wired an announcement of his coming the
+day before and that Rogers was almost pitifully relieved to know that
+the case was in the hands of the man who had solved nearly a score of
+the problems which had arisen in the Service during the past few years.
+
+"How much do you know about the case?" inquired the postmaster.
+
+"Only what I learned indirectly and from what the chief told me," was
+Allison's reply. "I understand that approximately one hundred thousand
+dollars is missing from this post office" (here Rogers instinctively
+winced as he thought of the criticism which this announcement would
+cause if it were made outside the office), "but I haven't any of the
+details."
+
+"Neither have we, unfortunately," was the answer. "If we had had a few
+more we might have been able to prevent the last theft. You know about
+that, of course."
+
+"The fifty thousand dollars? Yes. The chief told me that you had wired."
+
+"Well, that incident is typical of the other three. Banks in various
+parts of the country have been sending rather large sums of money
+through the mails to their correspondents here. There's nothing unusual
+in that at this time of the year. But within the past five or six weeks
+there have been four packages--or, rather, large envelopes--of money
+which have failed to be accounted for. They ranged all the way from ten
+thousand dollars, the first loss, to the fifty thousand dollars which
+disappeared within the past few days. I purposely delayed wiring
+Washington until we could make a thorough search of the whole place,
+going over the registry room with a fine-tooth comb--"
+
+"Thus warning every man in it that he was under suspicion," muttered
+Allison.
+
+"What was that?" Rogers inquired.
+
+"Nothing--nothing at all. Just talking to myself. Far from a good habit,
+but don't mind it. I've got some queer ones. You didn't find anything,
+of course?"
+
+"In the building? No, not a thing. But I thought it best to make a
+thorough clean-up here before I bothered Washington with a report."
+
+"What about the men who've been working on the case up to this time?"
+
+"Not one of them has been able to turn up anything that could be
+dignified by the term clue, as I believe you detectives call it."
+
+"Yes, that's the right word," agreed the operative. "At least all
+members of the Detective-Story-Writers' Union employ it frequently
+enough to make it fit the case. What lines have Boyd and the other men
+here been following?"
+
+"At my suggestion they made a careful examination into the private lives
+of all employees of the post-office, including myself," Rogers answered,
+a bit pompously. "I did not intend to evade the slightest responsibility
+in the matter, so I turned over my bankbook, the key to my safe-deposit
+vault and even allowed them to search my house from cellar to garret."
+
+"Was this procedure followed with respect to all the other employees in
+the building?"
+
+"No, only one or two of the highest--personal friends of mine whom I
+could trust to keep silent. I didn't care to swear out search warrants
+for the residences of all the people who work here, and that's what it
+would have meant if they had raised any objection. In their cases the
+investigation was confined to inquiries concerning their expenditures in
+the neighborhood, unexpected prosperity, and the like."
+
+"With what result?"
+
+"None at all. From all appearances there isn't a soul in this building
+who has had ten cents more during the past six weeks than he possessed
+in any like period for two years back."
+
+"Did Boyd or any of the other department operatives ask to see the plans
+of the post office?" inquired Allison, taking another tack.
+
+"The what?"
+
+"The plans of the post-office--the blue print prepared at the time that
+the building was erected."
+
+"No. Why should they?"
+
+"I thought they might have been interested in it, that's all," was
+Allison's answer, but anyone who knew him would have noted that his tone
+was just a trifle too nonchalant to be entirely truthful.
+
+"By the way," added the operative, "might I see it?"
+
+"The blue print?"
+
+"Yes. You will probably find it in the safe. If you'll have some one
+look it up, I'll be back in half an hour to examine it," said Allison.
+"Meanwhile, I'll talk to Boyd and the other men already on the ground
+and see if I can dig anything out of what they've discovered."
+
+But Boyd and his associates were just as relieved as Rogers had been to
+find that the case had been placed in Allison's hands. Four weeks and
+more of steady work had left them precisely where they had
+commenced--"several miles back of that point," as one of them admitted,
+"for three more stunts have been pulled off right under our eyes." The
+personal as well as the official record of every man and woman in the
+Columbus post office had been gone over with a microscope, without the
+slightest result. If the germ of dishonesty was present, it was
+certainly well hidden.
+
+"We'll try another and more powerful lens," Allison stated, as he turned
+back to the postmaster's private office. "By the way, Boyd, have you or
+any of your men been in the Service more than four years?"
+
+"No, I don't think any of us has. What has that got to do with it?"
+
+"Not a thing in the world, as far as your ability is concerned, but
+there is one point that every one of you overlooked--because you never
+heard of it. I'm going to try it out myself now and I'll let you know
+what develops."
+
+With that Allison turned and sauntered back into Rogers's office.
+
+There, spread upon the desk, was the missing blue print, creased and
+dusty from disuse.
+
+"First time you ever saw this, eh?" Allison inquired of the postmaster.
+
+"The first time I even knew it was there," admitted that official.
+"How'd you know where to find it?"
+
+"I didn't--but there's an ironclad rule of the department that plans of
+this nature are to be kept under lock and key for just such emergencies
+as this. But I guess your predecessor was too busy to worry you with
+details."
+
+Rogers grunted. It was an open secret that the postmaster who had
+preceded him had not been any too friendly to his successor.
+
+Allison did not pursue the subject but spread the plan upon an
+unoccupied table so that he could examine it with care.
+
+"If you'll be good enough to lock that door, Postmaster," he directed,
+"I'll show you something else about your building that you didn't know.
+But I don't want anybody else coming in while we're discussing it."
+
+Puzzled, but feeling that the government detective ought to be allowed
+to handle things in his own way, Rogers turned the key in the lock and
+came over to the table where Allison stood.
+
+"Do you see that little square marked with a white star and the letter
+'L'?" asked Elmer.
+
+"Yes, what is it?"
+
+"What is this large room next to it?" countered the operative.
+
+"That's the--why, that's the registry room!"
+
+"Precisely. And concealed in the wall in a spot known only to persons
+familiar with this blue print, is a tiny closet, or 'lookout.' That's
+what the 'L' means and that's the reason that there's a strict rule
+about guarding plans of this nature very carefully."
+
+"You mean to say that a place has been provided for supervision of the
+registry division--a room from which the clerks can be watched without
+their knowledge?"
+
+"Exactly--and such a precaution has been taken in practically every post
+office of any size in the country. Only the older men in the Service
+know about it, which is the reason that neither Boyd nor any of his men
+asked to see this set of plans. The next step is to find the key to the
+lookout and start in on a very monotonous spell of watchful waiting. You
+have the bunch of master keys, of course?"
+
+"Yes, they're in the safe where the plans were kept. Just a moment and
+I'll get them."
+
+When Rogers produced the collection of keys, Allison ran hurriedly over
+them and selected one which bore, on the handle, a small six-pointed
+star corresponding to the mark on the blue print.
+
+"Want to go up with me and investigate the secret chamber?" he inquired.
+
+"I certainly do," agreed Rogers. "But there's one point where this room
+won't help us in the slightest. How did the thief get the mail
+containing the money out of the building? You know the system that
+maintains in the registry room? It's practically impossible for a sheet
+of paper to be taken out of there, particularly when we are on guard, as
+we are now."
+
+"That's true," Allison admitted, "but it's been my experience that
+problems which appear the most puzzling are, after all, the simplest of
+explanation. You remember the Philadelphia mint robbery--the one that
+Drummond solved in less than six hours? This may prove to be just as
+easy."
+
+There Allison was wrong, dead wrong--as he had to admit some ten days
+later, when, worn with the strain of sitting for hours at a time with
+his eyes glued to the ventilator which masked the opening to the
+lookout, he finally came to the conclusion that something would have to
+be done to speed things up. It was true that no new robberies had
+occurred in the meantime, but neither had any of the old ones been
+punished. The lost one hundred thousand dollars was still lost; though
+the department, with the aid of the Treasury officials, had seen that
+the banks were reimbursed.
+
+"The decoy letter," thought Allison, "is probably the oldest dodge in
+the world. But, who knows, it may work again in this case--provided we
+stage-manage it sufficiently carefully."
+
+With the assistance of the cashier of one of the local banks Elmer
+arranged to have a dummy package of money forwarded by mail from New
+York. It was supposed to contain thirty-five thousand dollars in cash,
+and all the formalities were complied with precisely as if thirty-five
+thousand-dollar bills were really inside the envelope, instead of as
+many sheets of blank paper carefully arranged.
+
+On the morning of the day the envelope was due to reach Columbus,
+Allison took up his position close to the grille in the lookout, his
+eyes strained to catch the slightest suspicious movement below. Hour
+after hour passed uneventfully until, almost immediately below him, he
+saw a man drop something on the floor. Two envelopes had slipped from
+his hands and he stooped to pick them up--that was all.
+
+But what carried a thrill to the operative in the lookout was the fact
+that one of the envelopes was the dummy sent from New York and that,
+when the man straightened up, he had only _one_ of the two in his hands.
+The dummy had disappeared!
+
+Allison rubbed his eyes and looked again. No, he was right. The postal
+clerk had, in some manner, disposed of the envelope supposed to contain
+thirty-five thousand dollars and he was going about his work in
+precisely the same way as before.
+
+"Wait a minute," Allison argued to himself. "There's something missing
+besides the envelope! What is it?"
+
+A moment later he had the clue to the whole affair--the jaws of the
+clerk, which Allison had previously and subconsciously noted were always
+hard at work on a wad of gum, now were at rest for the first time since
+the operative had entered the lookout! The chewing gum and the dummy
+packet had disappeared at the same time!
+
+It didn't take Elmer more than thirty seconds to reach Rogers's office,
+and he entered with the startling announcement that "an envelope
+containing thirty-five thousand dollars had just disappeared from the
+registry room."
+
+"What?" demanded the postmaster. "How do you know? I haven't received
+any report of it."
+
+"No, and you probably wouldn't for some time," Elmer retorted. "But it
+happens that I saw it disappear."
+
+"Then you know where it is?"
+
+"I can lay my hands on it--and probably the rest of the missing
+money--inside of one minute. Let's pay a visit to the registry room."
+
+Before entering the section, however, Allison took the precaution of
+posting men at both of the doors.
+
+"After I'm inside," he directed, "don't allow anyone to leave on any
+pretext whatever. And stand ready for trouble in case it develops. Come
+on, Mr. Rogers."
+
+Once in the room devoted to the handling of registered mail, Allison
+made directly for the desk under the lookout. The occupant regarded
+their approach with interest but, apparently, without a trace of
+anxiety.
+
+"I'd like to have that letter supposed to contain thirty-five thousand
+dollars which you dropped on the floor a few moments ago," Elmer
+remarked in a quiet, almost conversational tone.
+
+Except for a sudden start, the clerk appeared the picture of innocence.
+
+"What letter?" he parried.
+
+"You know what one!" snapped Allison, dropping his suave manner and
+moving his hand significantly toward his coat pocket. "Will you produce
+it--or shall I?"
+
+"I--I don't know what you are talking about," stammered the clerk.
+
+"No? Well, I'll show you!" and the operative's hands flashed forward and
+there was a slight click as a pair of handcuffs snapped into place.
+"Now, Mr. Rogers, you'll be good enough to watch me carefully, as your
+evidence will probably be needed in court. I'll show you as simple and
+clever a scheme as I've ever run across."
+
+With that Allison dropped to the floor, wormed his way under the
+table-desk, tugged at something for a moment and then rose, holding five
+large envelopes in his hands!
+
+"There's your lost one hundred thousand dollars," he explained, "and a
+dummy packet of thirty-five thousand dollars to boot. Thought you could
+get away with it indefinitely, eh?" he inquired of the handcuffed clerk.
+"If you'd stopped with the one hundred thousand dollars, as you'd
+probably intended to do, you might have. But that extra letter turned
+the trick. Too bad it contained only blank paper"--and he ripped the
+envelope open to prove his assertion.
+
+"But--but--I don't understand," faltered Rogers. "How did this man work
+it right under our eyes?"
+
+"He didn't," declared Allison. "He tried to work it right under mine,
+but he couldn't get away with it. The plan was simplicity itself. He'd
+slip an envelope which he knew contained a large sum of money out of the
+pile as it passed him--he hadn't signed for them, so he wasn't taking
+any special risk--drop it on the floor, stoop over, and, if he wasn't
+being watched, attach it to the _bottom_ of his desk with a wad of
+chewing gum. You boasted that you went over the room with a fine-tooth
+comb, but who would think of looking on the under side of this table.
+The idea, of course, was that he'd wait for the storm to blow
+over--because the letters could remain in their hiding places for
+months, if necessary--and then start on a lifelong vacation with his
+spoils as capital. But he made the error of overcapitalization and I
+very much fear that he'll put in at least ten years at Leavenworth or
+Morgantown. But I'd like to bet he never chews another piece of gum!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That," continued Quinn, as he tossed another pink wrapper into the
+wastebasket, "I consider the simplest and cleverest scheme to beat the
+government that I ever heard of--better even than Cochrane's plan in
+connection with the robbery of the Philadelphia mint, because it didn't
+necessitate any outside preparation at all. The right job, a piece of
+gum, and there you are. But you may be sure that whenever an important
+letter disappears nowadays, one of the first places searched by the
+Postal Inspection operatives is the lower side of the desks and tables.
+You can't get away with a trick twice in the same place."
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+"THE DOUBLE CODE"
+
+
+It was one night in early fall that Bill Quinn and I were browsing
+around the library in the house that he had called "home" ever since a
+counterfeiter's bullet incapacitated him from further active work in the
+Secret Service. Prior to that time he had lived, as he put it, "wherever
+he hung his hat," but now there was a comfortable little house with a
+den where Quinn kept the more unusual, and often gruesome, relics which
+brought back memories of the past.
+
+There, hanging on the wall with a dark-brown stain still adorning the
+razorlike edge, was a Chinese hatchet which had doubtless figured in
+some tong war on the Coast. Below was an ordinary twenty-five-cent
+piece, attached to the wall paper with chewing gum--"just as it once
+aided in robbing the Treasury of nearly a million dollars," Quinn
+assured me. In another part of the room was a frame containing what
+appeared to be a bit torn from the wrapping of a package, with the
+canceled stamp and a half-obliterated postmark as the only clues to the
+murder of the man who had received it, and, beside the bookcases, which
+contained a wide range of detective literature, hung a larger frame in
+which were the finger prints of more than a score of criminals, men
+bearing names practically unknown to the public, but whose exploits were
+bywords in the various governmental detective services.
+
+It was while glancing over the contents of the bookcase that I noted one
+volume which appeared strangely out of place in this collection of the
+fictional romances of crime.
+
+"What's this doing here?" I inquired, taking down a volume of _The Giant
+Raft_, by Jules Verne. "Verne didn't write detective stories, did he?"
+
+"No," replied Quinn, "and it's really out of place in the bookcase. If
+possible, I'd like to have it framed and put on the wall with the rest
+of the relics--for it's really more important than any of them, from the
+standpoint of value to the nation. That quarter on the wall over
+there--the one which figured in the Sugar Fraud case--cost the
+government in the neighborhood of a million dollars, but this book
+probably saved a score of millions and hundreds of lives as well. If it
+hadn't been for the fact that Thurber of the Navy Department knew his
+Jules Vernes even better than he did his Bible, it's quite possible
+that--
+
+"Well, there's no use telling the end of the story before the beginning.
+Make yourself comfortable and I'll see if I can recall the details of
+the case."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Remember Dr. Heinrich Albert? [Quinn inquired, after we had both
+stretched out in front of the open fire]. Theoretically, the Herr Doktor
+was attached to the German embassy in Washington merely in an advisory
+and financial capacity. He and Haniel von Heimhausen--the same counselor
+that the present German government wanted to send over here as
+ambassador after the signing of the peace treaty--were charged with the
+solution of many of the legal difficulties which arose in connection
+with the business of the big red brick dwelling on Massachusetts Avenue.
+But while von Heimhausen was occupied with the legal end of the game,
+Doctor Albert attended to many of the underground details which went
+unsuspected for many years.
+
+It was he, for example, who managed the bidding for the wireless station
+in the Philippines--the plan which permitted the German government to
+dictate the location of the station and to see to it that the towers
+were so placed where they would be most useful to Berlin. He undoubtedly
+worked with von Papen and Boy-Ed during the early years of the
+war--years in which this precious trio, either with or without the
+knowledge of Count von Bernstorff, sought by every means to cripple
+American shipping, violate American neutrality, and make a laughingstock
+of American diplomatic methods. What's more, they got away with it for
+months, not because the Secret Service and the Department of Justice
+weren't hot on their trail, but because the Germans were too cagy to be
+caught and you can't arrest a diplomat just on suspicion.
+
+During the months which followed the first of August, nineteen fourteen,
+practically every one of the government's detective services was called
+upon in some way to pry into the affairs of the embassy staff. But the
+brunt of the work naturally devolved upon the two organizations directly
+concerned with preventing flagrant breaches of neutrality--the Secret
+Service and the Department of Justice.
+
+Every time that Doctor Albert, or any other official of the German
+government, left Washington he was trailed by anywhere from one to five
+men. Every move he made was noted and reported to headquarters, with the
+result that the State Department had a very good idea of the names of
+the men who were being used to forward Germany's ends, even though it
+knew comparatively little about what was actually planned. The attaches
+were entirely too clever to carry on compromising conversations in the
+open, and their appointments were made in such a manner as effectually
+to prevent the planting of a dictaphone or any other device by which
+they might be overheard.
+
+The directions to the men who were responsible for the working of the
+two Services were:
+
+     Every attache of the German embassy is to be guarded with
+     extreme care, day and night. Reports are to be made through
+     the usual channels and, in the event that something unusual
+     is observed, Divisional Headquarters is to be notified
+     instantly, the information being transmitted to Washington
+     before any final action is taken.
+
+This last clause, of course, was inserted to prevent some hot-headed
+operative from going off half-cocked and thus spoiling the State
+Department's plans. As long as Albert and his associates were merely
+"guarded" they couldn't enter any formal complaint. But, given half a
+chance, they would have gotten on their official dignity and demanded
+that the espionage cease.
+
+From the State Department's point of view it was an excellent rule, but
+Gene Barlow and the other Service men assigned to follow Albert couldn't
+see it in that light.
+
+"What's the idea, anyhow?" Gene growled one night as his pet taxicab
+dashed down Massachusetts Avenue in the wake of the big touring car that
+was carrying the German attache to the Union Station. "Here we have to
+be on the job at all hours, just to watch this Dutchman and see what he
+does. And," with a note of contempt, "he never does anything worth
+reporting. Sees half a dozen people, lunches at the German-American
+Club, drops in at two or three offices downtown, and then back here
+again. If they'd only let us waylay him and get hold of that black bag
+that he always carts around there'd be nothing to it. Some day I'm
+going to do that little thing, just to see what happens."
+
+But Barlow took it out in threats. Secret Service men find pleasure in
+stating what they are going to do "some day"--but the quality of
+implicit obedience has been drilled into them too thoroughly for them to
+forget it, which is possibly the reason why they take such a sheer and
+genuine delight in going ahead when the restrictions are finally lifted.
+
+It was in New York, more than two years after the war had commenced,
+that Barlow got his first opportunity to "see what would happen." In the
+meantime, he had been assigned to half a dozen other cases, but always
+returned to the shadowing of Doctor Albert because he was the one man
+who had been eminently successful in that work. The German had an almost
+uncanny habit of throwing his pursuers off the trail whenever he wanted
+to and in spite of the efforts of the cleverest men in the Service had
+disappeared from time to time. The resumption of unrestricted submarine
+warfare and the delicacy of the diplomatic situation which ensued made
+it imperative that the "man with the saber scar," as Doctor Albert was
+known, be kept constantly under surveillance.
+
+"Stick to him, Gene, and don't bother about reporting until you are
+certain that he will stay put long enough for you to phone," were the
+instructions that Barlow received. "The doctor must be watched every
+moment that he's away from the Embassy and it's up to you to do it."
+
+"Anything else beside watching him?" inquired the operative, hopefully.
+
+"No," smiled the chief, "there isn't to be any rough stuff. We're on the
+verge of an explosion as it is, and anyone who pulls the hair trigger
+will not only find himself out of a job, but will have the doubtful
+satisfaction of knowing that he's responsible for wrecking some very
+carefully laid plans. Where Albert goes, who he talks with and, if
+possible, a few details of what they discuss, is all that's wanted."
+
+"Wouldn't like to have a piece of the Kaiser's mustache or anything of
+that kind, would you, Chief?" Barlow retorted. "I could get that for you
+a whole lot easier than I could find out what the man with the saber
+scar talks about. He's the original George B. Careful. Never was known
+to take a chance. Wouldn't bet a nickel against a hundred dollars that
+the sun would come up to-morrow and always sees to it that his
+conferences are held behind bolted doors. They even pull down the shades
+so that no lip reader with a pair of field glasses can get a tip as to
+what they're talking about."
+
+"That's the reason you were picked for this case," was the chief's
+reply. "Any strong-arm man could whale Albert over the head and throw
+him in the river. That wouldn't help any. What we need is information
+concerning what his plans are, and it takes a clever man to get that."
+
+"All bull and a yard wide!" laughed Gene, but the compliment pleased
+him, nevertheless. "I'll watch him, but let me know when the lid comes
+off and I can use other methods."
+
+The chief promised that he would--and it was not more than three weeks
+later that he had an opportunity to make good.
+
+"Barlow," he directed, speaking over the long-distance phone to the
+operative in New York, "the Department of Justice has just reported that
+Doctor Albert is in receipt of a document of some kind--probably a
+letter of instruction from Berlin--which it is vital that we have at
+once. Our information is that the message is written on a slip of oiled
+paper carried inside a dummy lead pencil. It's possible that the doctor
+has destroyed it, but it isn't probable. Can you get it?"
+
+"How far am I allowed to go?" inquired Gene, hoping for permission to
+stage a kidnaping of the German attache, but fully expecting these
+instructions which followed--orders that he was to do nothing that would
+cause an open breach, nothing for which Doctor Albert could demand
+reparation or even an apology.
+
+"In other words," Barlow said to himself, as he hung up the phone, "I'm
+to accomplish the impossible, blindfolded and with my hands tied. Wonder
+whether Paula would have a hunch--"
+
+Paula was Barlow's sweetheart, a pretty little brunette who earned a
+very good salary as private secretary to one of the leading lights of
+Wall Street--which accounted for the fact that the operative had learned
+to rely upon her quick flashes of intuitive judgment for help in a
+number of situations which had required tact as well as action. They
+were to be married whenever Gene's professional activities subsided
+sufficiently to allow him to remain home at least one night a month,
+but, meanwhile, Paula maintained that she would as soon be the wife of
+an African explorer--"Because at least I would know that he wouldn't be
+back for six months, while I haven't any idea whether you'll be out of
+town two days or two years."
+
+After they had talked the Albert matter over from all angles, Paula
+inquired, "Where would your friend with the saber scar be likely to
+carry the paper?"
+
+"Either in his pocket or in the black bag that he invariably has with
+him."
+
+"Hum!" she mused, "if it's in his pocket I don't see that there is
+anything you can do, short of knocking him down and taking it away from
+him, and that's barred by the rules of the game. But if it is in the
+mysterious black bag.... Is the doctor in town now?"
+
+"Yes, he's at the Astor, probably for two or three days. I left Dwyer
+and French on guard there while I, presumably, snatched a little sleep.
+But I'd rather have your advice than any amount of rest."
+
+"Thanks," was the girl's only comment, for her mind was busy with the
+problem. "There's apparently no time to lose, so I'll inform the office
+the first thing in the morning that I won't be down, meet you in front
+of the Astor, and we'll see what happens. Just let me stick with you,
+inconspicuously, and I think that I can guarantee at least an
+opportunity to lift the bag without giving the German a chance to raise
+a row."
+
+Thus it was that, early the next day, Gene Barlow was joined by a
+distinctly personable young woman who, after a moment's conversation,
+strolled up and down Broadway in front of the hotel.
+
+Some twenty minutes later a man whose face had been disfigured by a
+saber slash received at Heidelberg came down the steps and asked for a
+taxi. But Barlow, acting under directions from Paula, had seen that
+there were no taxis to be had. A flash of his badge and some coin of the
+realm had fixed that. So Dr. Heinrich Albert, of the German embassy, was
+forced to take a plebeian surface car--as Paula had intended that he
+should. The Secret Service operative and his pretty companion boarded
+the same car a block farther down, two other government agents having
+held it sufficiently long at Forty-fourth Street to permit of this move.
+
+Worming their way through the crowd when their prey changed to the Sixth
+Avenue Elevated, Gene and Paula soon reached points of vantage on either
+side of the German, who carried his black bag tightly grasped in his
+right hand, and the trio kept this formation until they reached Fiftieth
+Street, when the girl apparently started to make her way toward the
+door. Something caused her to stumble, however, and she pitched forward
+right into the arms of the German, who by that time had secured a seat
+and had placed his bag beside him, still guarding it with a protecting
+arm.
+
+Before the foreigner had time to gather his wits, he found himself with
+a pretty girl literally in his lap--a girl who was manifestly a lady and
+who blushed to the tips of her ears as she apologized for her
+awkwardness. Even if the German had been a woman-hater there would have
+been nothing for him to do but to assist her to her feet, and that,
+necessarily, required the use of both hands. As it happened, Doctor
+Albert was distinctly susceptible to feminine charms, and there was
+something about this girl's smile which was friendly, though
+embarrassed.
+
+So he spent longer than was strictly essential in helping her to the
+door--she appeared to have turned her ankle--and then returned to his
+seat only to find that his portfolio was missing!
+
+Recriminations and threats were useless. A score of people had left the
+car and, as the guard heartlessly refused to stop the train before the
+next station, there was naturally not a trace of the girl or the man who
+had accompanied her. By that time, in fact, Barlow and Paula had slipped
+into the shelter of a neighboring hotel lobby and were busy inspecting
+the contents of Doctor Albert's precious brief case.
+
+"Even if there's nothing in it," laughed the girl, "we've had the
+satisfaction of scaring him to death."
+
+Gene said nothing, but pawed through the papers in frantic haste.
+
+"A slip of oiled paper," he muttered. "By the Lord Harry! here it is!"
+and he produced a pencil which his trained fingers told him was lighter
+than it should be. With a wrench he broke off the metal tip that held
+the eraser, and from within the wooden spindle removed a tightly wrapped
+roll of very thin, almost transparent paper, covered with unintelligible
+lettering.
+
+"What's on it?" demanded Paula.
+
+"I'll never tell you," was Barlow's reply. "It would take a better man
+than I am to decipher this," and he read off:
+
+     "I i i t f b b t t x o...."
+
+"Code?" interrupted the girl.
+
+"Sure it is--and apparently a peach." The next moment he had slipped the
+paper carefully into an inside pocket, crammed the rest of the papers
+back into the brief case, and was disappearing into a phone booth.
+
+"Better get down to work, dear," he called over his shoulder. "I'm going
+to report to the office here and then take this stuff down to
+Washington!" And that was the last that Paula saw of him for a week.
+
+Six hours later Barlow entered the chief's office in the Treasury
+Department and reported that he had secured the code message.
+
+"So New York phoned," was the only comment from the man who directed the
+destinies of the Secret Service. "Take it right up to the Navy
+Department and turn it over to Thurber, the librarian. He'll be able to
+read it, if anybody can."
+
+Thurber, Gene knew, was the man who was recognizedly the leading
+authority on military codes and ciphers in the United States, the man
+who had made a hobby as well as a business of decoding mysterious
+messages and who had finally deciphered the famous "square letter" code,
+though it took him months to do it.
+
+"He'll have to work faster than that this time," thought Barlow, as he
+made his way toward the librarian's office on the fourth floor of the
+big gray-stone building. "Time's at a premium and Germany moves too fast
+to waste any of it."
+
+But Thurber was fully cognizant of the necessity for quick action. He
+had been warned that Barlow was bringing the dispatch and the entire
+office was cleared for work.
+
+Spreading the oiled paper on a table top made of clear glass, the
+Librarian turned on a battery of strong electric lights underneath so
+that any watermark or secret writing would have been at once apparent.
+But there was nothing on the sheet except line after line of meaningless
+letters.
+
+"It's possible, of course, that there may be some writing in invisible
+ink on the sheet," admitted the cipher expert. "But the fact that oiled
+paper is used would seem to preclude that. The code itself may be any
+one of several varieties and it's a matter of trying 'em all until you
+hit upon the right one."
+
+"I thought that Poe's story of 'The Gold Bug' claimed that any cipher
+could be read if you selected the letter that appeared most frequently
+and substituted for it the letter 'e,' which is used most often in
+English, and so on down the list," stated Barlow.
+
+"So it did. But there are lots of things that Poe didn't know about
+codes." Thurber retorted, his eyes riveted to the sheet before him.
+"Besides, that was fiction and the author knew just how the code was
+constructed, while this is fact and we have to depend upon hard work and
+blind luck.
+
+"There are any number of arbitrary systems which might have been used in
+writing this message," he continued. "The army clock code is one of
+them--the one in which a number is added to every letter figure,
+dependent upon the hour at which the message is written. But I don't
+think that applies in this case. The cipher doesn't look like it--though
+I'll have to admit that it doesn't look like any that I've come across
+before. Let's put it on the blackboard and study it from across the
+room. That often helps in concentrating."
+
+"You're not going to write the whole thing on the board?" queried the
+operative.
+
+"No, only the first fifteen letters or so," and Thurber put down this
+line:
+
+     I i i t f b b t t x o r q w s b b
+
+"Translated into what we call 'letter figures,'" he went on, "that would
+be 9 9 9 20 6 2 2 20 20 24 15 18 17 23 19 2 2--the system where 'a' is
+denoted by 1, 'b' by 2, and so on. No, that's still meaningless. That
+repetition of the letter 'i' at the beginning of the message is what
+makes it particularly puzzling.
+
+"If you don't mind, I'll lock the door and get to work on this in
+earnest. Where can I reach you by phone?"
+
+Barlow smiled at this polite dismissal and, stating that he would be at
+headquarters for the rest of the evening and that they would know where
+to reach him after that, left the office--decidedly doubtful as to
+Thurber's ability to read the message.
+
+Long after midnight Gene answered a ring from the phone beside his bed
+and through a haze of sleep heard the voice of the navy librarian
+inquiring if he still had the other papers which had been in Doctor
+Albert's bag.
+
+"No," replied the operative, "but I can get them. They are on top of the
+chief's desk. Nothing in them, though. Went over them with a
+microscope."
+
+"Just the same," directed Thurber, "I'd like to have them right away. I
+think I'm on the trail, but the message is impossible to decipher unless
+we get the code word. It may be in some of the other papers."
+
+Barlow found the librarian red-eyed from his lack of sleep and the
+strain of the concentration over the code letter. But when they had gone
+over the papers found in the black bag, even Thurber had to admit that
+he was checkmated.
+
+"Somewhere," he maintained, "is the one word which will solve the whole
+thing. I know the type of cipher. It's one that is very seldom used; in
+fact, the only reference to it that I know of is in Jules Verne's novel
+_The Giant Raft_. It's a question of taking a key word, using the letter
+figures which denote this, and adding these to the letter figures of the
+original letter. That will give you a series of numbers which it is
+impossible to decipher unless you know the key word. I feel certain that
+this is a variation of that system, for the fact that two letters appear
+together so frequently would seem to indicate that the numbers which
+they represent are higher than twenty-six, the number of the letters in
+the alphabet."
+
+"One word!" muttered Barlow. Then, seizing what was apparently a
+memorandum sheet from the pile of Albert's papers, he exclaimed: "Here's
+a list that neither the chief nor I could make anything of. See? It has
+twelve numbers, which might be the months of the year, with a name or
+word behind each one!"
+
+"Yes," replied Thurber, disconsolately, "I saw that the first thing. But
+this is October and the word corresponding to the number ten is
+'Wilhelmstrasse'--and that doesn't help at all. I tried it."
+
+"Then try 'Hohenzollern,' the September word!" snapped Barlow. "This
+message was presumably written in Berlin and therefore took some time to
+get over here."
+
+"By George! that's so! A variation of the 'clock code' as well as
+Verne's idea. Here, read off the letters and I'll put them on the board
+with the figures representing Hohenzollern underneath. Take the first
+fifteen as before."
+
+When they had finished, the blackboard bore the following, the first
+line being the original code letters, the second the letter figures of
+these, and the third the figures of the word "Hohenzollern" with the
+first "h" repeated for the fifteenth letter:
+
+  I i i t f b b t t x o r q w s b b
+
+          I  ii   t  f  bb  tt   x   o   r   q   w   s  bb
+          9  35  20  6  28  46  24  15  18  17  23  19  28
+          8  15   8  5  14  26  15  12  12   5  18  14   8
+
+"Why thirty-five for that double 'i' and twenty-eight for the double
+'b's'?" asked Barlow.
+
+"Add twenty-six--the total number of letters in the alphabet--to the
+letter figure for the letter itself," said Thurber. "That's the one
+beauty of this code, one of the things which helps to throw you off the
+scent. Now subtracting the two lines we have:
+
+    "1   20   12   1   14   20   9   3   6   12   5   5   20
+
+"We've got it!" he cried an instant later, as he stepped back to look at
+the figures and read off:
+
+              "A t l a n t i c   f l e e t
+
+"It was a double code, after all," Thurber stated when he had deciphered
+the entire message by the same procedure and had reported his discovery
+to the Secretary of the Navy over the phone. "Practically infallible,
+too, save for the fact that I, as well as Doctor Albert, happened to be
+familiar with Jules Verne. That, plus the doctor's inability to rely on
+his memory and therefore leaving his key words in his brief case,
+rendered the whole thing pretty easy."
+
+"Yes," thought Gene, "plus my suggestion of the September word, rather
+than the October one, and plus Paula's quick wit--that's really all
+there was to it!" But he kept his thoughts to himself, preferring to
+allow Thurber to reap all the rewards that were coming to him for the
+solution of the "double code."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Do you know what the whole message was?" I inquired, as Quinn stopped
+his narrative.
+
+"You'll find it pasted on the back of that copy of _The Giant Raft_,"
+replied the former operative. "That's why I claim that the book ought to
+be preserved as a souvenir of an incident that saved millions of dollars
+and hundreds of lives."
+
+Turning to the back of the Verne book I saw pasted there the following
+significant lines:
+
+     Atlantic Fleet sails (from) Hampton Roads (at) six (o'clock)
+     morning of seventeenth. Eight U-boats will be waiting. Advise
+     necessary parties and be ready (to) seek safety. Success (of)
+     attack inevitable.
+
+"That means that if Thurber hadn't been able to decipher that code the
+greater part of our fleet would have been sunk by an unexpected
+submarine attack, launched by a nation with whom we weren't even at
+war?" I demanded, when I had finished the message.
+
+"Precisely," agreed Quinn. "But if you'll look up the records you'll
+find that the fleet did not sail on schedule, while Dr. Heinrich Albert
+and the entire staff from the house on Massachusetts Avenue were
+deported before many more weeks had passed. There was no sense in
+raising a fuss about the incident at the time, for von Bernstorff would
+have denied any knowledge of the message and probably would have charged
+that the whole thing was a plant, designed to embroil the United States
+in the war. So it was allowed to rest for the time being and merely
+jotted down as another score to be wiped off the slate later on.
+
+"But you have to admit that a knowledge of Jules Verne came in very
+handy--quite as much so, in fact, as did a knowledge of the habits and
+disposition of white mice in another case."
+
+"Which one was that?"
+
+Quinn merely pointed to the top of his bookcase, where there reposed a
+stuffed white mouse, apparently asleep.
+
+"That's a memento of the case," replied the former operative. "I'll tell
+you of it the next time you drop in."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE TRAIL OF THE WHITE MICE
+
+
+"The United States Secret Service," announced Bill Quinn, "is by long
+odds the best known branch of the governmental detective bureaus. The
+terror which the continental crook feels at the sound of the name
+'Scotland Yard' finds its echo on this side of the Atlantic whenever a
+criminal knows that he has run afoul of the U. S. S. S. For Uncle Sam
+never forgives an injury or forgets a wrong. Sooner or later he's going
+to get his man--no matter how long it takes nor how much money it costs.
+
+"But the Secret Service, strictly speaking, is only one branch of the
+organization. There are others which work just as quietly and just as
+effectively. The Department of Justice, which had charge of the
+violation of neutrality laws, banking, and the like; the Treasury
+Department, which, through the Customs Service and the Bureau of
+Internal Revenue, wages constant war on the men and women who think they
+can evade the import regulations and the laws against illicit
+manufacture of alcohol; the Pension Bureau of the Interior Department,
+which is called upon to handle hundreds of frauds every year; and the
+Post Office Department, which guards the millions of dollars intrusted
+to the mails.
+
+"Each of these has its own province. Each works along its own line in
+conjunction with the others, and each of them is, in reality, a secret
+organization which performs a vastly important service to the nation as
+a whole. When you speak of the Secret Service, the Treasury Department's
+organization comes immediately to mind--coupled with a panorama of
+counterfeiters, anarchists, revolutionaries, and the like. But the field
+of the Secret Service is really limited when compared to the scope of
+the other organizations.
+
+"Look around this room"--and he made a gesture which included the four
+walls of the library den in which we were seated, a room in which the
+usual decorations had been replaced by a strange collection of unusual
+and, in a number of instances, gruesome relics. "Every one of those
+objects is a memento of some exploit of the men engaged in Secret
+Service," Quinn went on. "That Chinese hatchet up there came very close
+to being buried in the skull of a man in San Diego, but its principal
+mission in life was the solution of the mystery surrounding the
+smuggling of thousands of pounds of opium. That water-stained cap was
+fished out of the Missouri after its owner had apparently committed
+suicide--but the Pension Bureau located him seven years later, with the
+aid of a fortune teller in Seattle. At the side of the bookcase there
+you will find several of the original poison-pen letters which created
+so much consternation in Kansas City a few years ago, letters which
+Allison of the Postal Inspection Service finally traced to their source
+after the local authorities had given up the case as impossible of
+solution.
+
+"The woman whose picture appears on the other wall was known as Mrs.
+Armitage--and that was about all that they did know about her, save that
+she was connected with one of the foreign organizations and that in some
+mysterious way she knew everything that was going on in the State
+Department almost as soon as it was started. And there, under that piece
+of silk which figured in one of the boldest smuggling cases that the
+Treasury Department ever tackled, is the blurred postmark which
+eventually led to the discovery of the man who murdered Montgomery
+Marshall--a case in which our old friend Sherlock Holmes would have
+reveled. But it's doubtful if he could have solved it any more
+skillfully than did one of the Post Office operatives."
+
+"What's the significance of that white mouse on the mantelpiece?" I
+inquired, sensing the fact that Quinn was in one of his story-telling
+moods.
+
+"It hasn't any significance," replied the former government agent, "but
+it has a story--one which illustrates my point that all the nation's
+detective work isn't handled by the Secret Service, by a long shot. Did
+you ever hear of H. Gordon Fowler, alias W. C. Evans?"
+
+"No," I replied, "I don't think I ever did."
+
+"Well, a lot of people have--to their sorrow," laughed Quinn, reaching
+for his pipe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+No one appears to know what Fowler's real name is [continued the former
+operative]. He traveled under a whole flock of aliases which ran the
+gamut of the alphabet from Andrews to Zachary, but, to save mixing
+things up, suppose that we assume that his right name was Fowler. He
+used it for six months at one time, out in Minneapolis, and got away
+with twenty thousand dollars' worth of stuff.
+
+For some time previous to Fowler's entrance upon the scene various
+wholesale houses throughout the country had been made the victims of
+what appeared to be a ring of bankruptcy experts--men who would secure
+credit for goods, open a store, and then "fail." Meanwhile the
+merchandise would have mysteriously vanished and the proprietor would be
+away on a "vacation" from which, of course, he would never return.
+
+On the face of it this was a matter to be settled solely by the
+Wholesalers' Credit Association, but the Postal Inspection Service got
+into it through the fact that the mails were palpably being used with
+intent to defraud and therefore Uncle Sam came to the aid of the
+business men.
+
+On the day that the matter was reported to Washington the chief of the
+Postal Inspection Service pushed the button which operated a buzzer in
+the outer office and summoned Hal Preston, the chap who later on was
+responsible for the solution of the Marshall murder mystery.
+
+"Hal," said the chief, with a smile, "here's a case I know you'll like.
+It's right in the line of routine and it ought to mean a lot of
+traveling around the country--quick jumps at night and all that sort of
+stuff."
+
+Preston grunted, but said nothing. You couldn't expect to draw the big
+cases every time, and, besides, there was no telling when something
+might break even in the most prosaic of assignments.
+
+"Grant, Wilcox & Company, in Boston, report that they've been stung
+twice in the same place by a gang of bankruptcy sharks," the chief went
+on. "And they're not the only ones who have suffered. Here's a list of
+the concerns and the men that they've sold to. You'll see that it covers
+the country from Hoquiam, Washington, to Montclair, New Jersey--so they
+appear to have their organization pretty well in hand. Ordinarily we
+wouldn't figure in this thing at all--but the gang made the mistake of
+placing their orders through the mail and now it's up to us to land 'em.
+Here's the dope. Hop to it!"
+
+That night, while en route to Mount Clemens, Michigan, where the latest
+of the frauds had been perpetrated, Preston examined the envelope full
+of evidence and came to a number of interesting conclusions. In the
+first place the failures had been staged in a number of different
+localities--Erie, Pennsylvania, had had one of them under the name of
+"Cole & Hill"; there had been another in Sioux City, where Immerling
+Brothers had failed; Metcalf and Newman, Illinois, had likewise
+contributed their share, as had Minneapolis, Newark, Columbus, White
+Plains, and Newburg, New York; San Diego, California; Hoquiam,
+Washington, and several other points.
+
+But the point that brought Hal up with a jerk was the dates attached to
+each of these affairs. No two of them had occurred within six months of
+the other and several were separated by as much as a year.
+
+"Who said this was a gang?" he muttered. "Looks a lot more like the work
+of a single man with plenty of nerve and, from the amount of stuff he
+got away with, he ought to be pretty nearly in the millionaire class by
+now. There's over two hundred thousand dollars' worth of goods covered
+by this report alone and there's no certainty that it is complete. Well,
+here's hoping--it's always easier to trail one man than a whole bunch of
+'em."
+
+In Mount Clemens Preston found further evidence which tended to prove
+that the bankruptcy game was being worked by a single nervy individual,
+posing under the name of "Henry Gerard."
+
+Gerard, it appeared, had entered the local field about a year before,
+apparently with plenty of capital, and had opened two prosperous stores
+on the principal street. In August, about two months before Preston's
+arrival, the proprietor of the Gerard stores had left on what was
+apparently scheduled for a two weeks' vacation. That was the last that
+had been heard of him, in spite of the fact that a number of urgent
+creditors had camped upon his trail very solicitously. The stores had
+been looted, only enough merchandise being left to keep up the fiction
+of a complete stock, and Gerard had vanished with the proceeds.
+
+After making a few guarded inquiries in the neighborhood of the store,
+Preston sought out the house where Gerard had boarded during his stay in
+Mount Clemens. There he found that the missing merchant, in order to
+allay suspicion, had paid the rental of his apartment for three months
+in advance, and that the place had not been touched since, save by the
+local authorities who had been working on the case.
+
+"You won't find a thing there," the chief of police informed Hal, in
+response to a request for information. "Gerard's skipped and that's all
+there is to it. We've been over the place with a fine-tooth comb and
+there ain't a scrap of evidence. We did find some telegrams torn up in
+his waste basket, but if you can make anything out of 'em it's more than
+I can," and he handed over an envelope filled with scraps of finely torn
+yellow paper.
+
+"Not the slightest indication of where Gerard went?" inquired Preston as
+he tucked the envelope in an inside pocket.
+
+"Not a bit," echoed the chief. "He may be in China now, so far as we
+know."
+
+"Was he married?"
+
+"Nobody here knows nothin' about him," the chief persisted. "They do say
+as how he was right sweet on a girl named Anna Something-or-other who
+lived in the same block. But she left town before he did, and she 'ain't
+come back, neither."
+
+"What did you say her name was?"
+
+"Anna Vaughan, I b'lieve she called herself. You might ask Mrs. Morris
+about her. She had a room at her place, only a few doors away from
+where Gerard stayed."
+
+The apartment of the man who had vanished, Preston found, was furnished
+in the manner typical of a thousand other places. Every stick of
+furniture appeared to have seen better days and no two pieces could be
+said to match. Evidently Gerard had been practicing economy in his
+domestic arrangements in order to save all the money possible for a
+quick getaway. What was more, he had carefully removed everything of a
+personal nature, save a row of books which decorated the mantel piece in
+one of the rooms.
+
+It was toward these that Preston finally turned in desperation. All but
+one of them were the cheaper grade of fiction, none of which bore any
+distinguishing marks, but the exception was a new copy of the latest
+Railroad Guide. Just as Preston pounced upon this he heard a chuckle
+from behind him and, whirling, saw the chief of police just entering the
+door.
+
+"Needn't worry with that, young man," he urged. "I've been all through
+it and there ain't nothin' in it. Just thought I'd drop up to see if
+you'd found anything," he added, in explanation of his sudden
+appearance. "Have you?"
+
+"No," admitted the postal operative. "Can't say that I have. This is the
+first piece of personal property that I've been able to locate and you
+say there is nothing in this?"
+
+"Nary a clue," persisted the chief, but Preston, as if loath to drop the
+only tangible reminder of Gerard, idly flipped the pages of the Guide,
+and then stood it on edge on the table, the covers slightly opened.
+Then, as the chief watched him curiously, he closed the book, opened it
+again and repeated the operation.
+
+"What's the idea? Tryin' to make it do tricks?" the chief asked as Hal
+stood the book on edge for the third time.
+
+"Hardly that. Just working on a little theory of my own," was the
+response, as the post-office man made a careful note of the page at
+which the Guide had fallen open--the same one which had presented itself
+to view on the two other occasions. "Here, would you like to try it?"
+and he handed the volume to the chief. But that functionary only
+shrugged his shoulders and replaced the Guide upon the mantelpiece.
+
+"Some more of your highfalutin' detective work, eh?" he muttered. "Soon
+you'll be claimin' that books can talk."
+
+"Possibly not out loud," smiled Hal. "But they can be made to tell very
+interesting stories now and then, if you know how to handle 'em. There
+doesn't seem to be much here, Chief, so I think I'll go back to the
+hotel. Let me know if anything comes up, will you?" And with that he
+left.
+
+But before returning to the hotel he stopped at the house where Anna
+Vaughan had resided and found out from the rather garrulous landlady
+that Gerard had appeared to be rather smitten with the beautiful
+stranger.
+
+"She certainly was dressed to kill," said the woman who ran the
+establishment. "A big woman and strong as all outdoors. Mr. Gerard came
+here three or four nights a week while she was with us and he didn't
+seem to mind the mice at all."
+
+"Mind the what?" snapped Preston.
+
+"The mice--the white mice that she used to keep as pets," explained the
+landlady. "Had half a dozen or more of them running over her shoulders,
+but I told her that I couldn't stand for that. She could keep 'em in
+her room if she wanted to, but I had to draw the line somewhere. Guess
+it was on their account that she didn't have any other visitors. S'far
+as I know Mr. Gerard was the only one who called on her."
+
+"When did Miss Vaughan leave?" Hal inquired.
+
+"Mrs. Vaughan," corrected the woman. "She was a widow--though she was
+young and pretty enough to have been married any time she wanted to be.
+Guess the men wouldn't stand for them mice, though. She didn't stay very
+long--just about six weeks. Left somewheres about the middle of July."
+
+"About two weeks before Gerard did?"
+
+"About that--though I don't just remember the date."
+
+A few more inquiries elicited the fact that Mrs. Vaughan's room had been
+rented since her departure, so Preston gave up the idea of looking
+through it for possible connecting links with the expert in bankruptcy.
+
+Returning to the hotel, the operative settled down to an examination of
+the scraps of torn telegrams which the chief had handed him. Evidently
+they had been significant, he argued, for Gerard had been careful to
+tear them into small bits, and it was long past midnight before he had
+succeeded in piecing the messages together, pasting the scraps on glass
+in case there had been any notations on the reverse of the blank.
+
+But when he had finished he found that he had only added one more
+puzzling aspect to the case.
+
+There were three telegrams, filed within a week and all dated just
+before Gerard had left town.
+
+"Geraldine, Anna, May, and Florence are in Chicago," read the message
+from Evanston, Illinois.
+
+"George, William, Katherine, Ray, and Stephen still in St. Louis," was
+the wire filed from Detroit.
+
+The third message, from Minneapolis, detailed the fact that "Frank,
+Vera, Marguerite, Joe, and Walter are ready to leave St. Paul."
+
+None of the telegrams was signed, but, merely as a precaution, Preston
+wired Evanston, Detroit, and Minneapolis to find out if there was any
+record of who had sent them.
+
+"Agent here recalls message," came the answer from Detroit the next day.
+"Filed by woman who refused to give her name. Agent says sender was
+quite large, good-looking, and very well dressed."
+
+"Anna Vaughan!" muttered Preston, as he tucked the telegram in his
+pocket and asked to be shown a copy of the latest Railway Guide.
+
+Referring to a note which he had made on the previous evening, Hal
+turned to pages 251-2, the part of the book which had fallen open three
+times in succession when he had examined it in Gerard's rooms, and noted
+that it was the Atchinson, Topeka & Santa Fe time-table, westbound.
+Evidently the missing merchant had invested in a copy of the Guide
+rather than run the risk of leaving telltale time-tables around his
+apartment, but he had overstepped himself by referring to only one
+portion of the book.
+
+"Not the first time that a crook has been just a little too clever,"
+mused Preston, with a smile. "If it had been an old copy, there wouldn't
+have been any evidence--but a new book, opened several times at the same
+place, can be made to tell tales--his honor, the chief of police, to the
+contrary."
+
+It was clear, therefore, that Preston had three leads to work on: Anna
+Vaughan, a large, beautiful woman, well-dressed and with an affection
+for white mice; the clue that Gerard was somewhere in the Southwest and
+at least the first names of fourteen men and women connected with the
+gang.
+
+But right there he paused. Was there any gang? The dates of the various
+disappearances tended to prove that there wasn't, but the messages
+received by Gerard certainly appeared to point to the fact that others
+were connected with the conspiracy to defraud.
+
+Possibly one of the clerks who had been connected with the Gerard stores
+would be able to throw a little light upon the situation....
+
+It wasn't until Hal interviewed the woman who had acted as cashier and
+manager for the second store that he found the lead he was after. In
+response to his inquiry as to whether she had ever heard the missing
+proprietor speak of any of the persons mentioned in the wires, the
+cashier at first stated definitely that she hadn't, but added, a moment
+later:
+
+"Come to think of it, he did. Not as people, but as trunks."
+
+"What's that?" exclaimed the operative. "Trunks?"
+
+"Yes. I remember sometime last spring, when we were figuring on how much
+summer goods we ought to carry, I mentioned the matter to Mr. Gerard,
+and almost automatically he replied, 'I'll wire for Edna and Grace.'
+Thinking he meant saleswomen, I reminded him that we had plenty,
+particularly for the slack season. He colored up a bit, caught his
+breath, and turned the subject by stating that he always referred to
+trunks of goods in terms of people's first names--girls for the feminine
+stuff and men's for the masculine. But Edna and Grace weren't on your
+list, were they?"
+
+"No," replied Preston. "But that doesn't matter. Besides, didn't the two
+trunks of goods arrive?"
+
+"Yes, they came in a couple of weeks later."
+
+"Before Mrs. Vaughan came to town?"
+
+"Oh yes, some time before she arrived."
+
+"I thought so," was Preston's reply, and, thanking the girl, he wandered
+back to the hotel--convinced that he had solved at least one of the
+mysteries, the question of what Gerard did with his surplus "bankrupt
+stock." It was evidently packed in trunks and shipped to distant points,
+to be forwarded by the Vaughan woman upon instructions from Gerard
+himself. The wires he had torn up were merely confirmatory messages,
+sent so that he would have the necessary information before making a
+getaway.
+
+"Clever scheme, all right," was Hal's mental comment. "Now the next
+point is to find some town in the Southwest where a new store has been
+opened within the past two months."
+
+That night the telegraph office at Mount Clemens did more business than
+it had had for the past year. Wires, under the government frank, went
+out to every town on the Atchinson, Topeka & Santa Fe and to a number of
+adjacent cities. In each case the message was the same:
+
+     Wire name of any new clothing store opened within past two
+     months. Also description of proprietor. Urgent.
+
+                                              PRESTON,
+                                                U. S. P. I. S.
+
+Fourteen chiefs of police replied within the next forty-eight hours, but
+of these only two--Leavenworth and Fort Worth--contained descriptions
+which tallied with that of Henry Gerard.
+
+So, to facilitate matters, Preston sent another wire:
+
+     Has proprietor mentioned in yesterday's wire a wife or woman
+     friend who keeps white mice as pets?
+
+Fort Worth replied facetiously that the owner of the new store there was
+married, but that his wife had a cat--which might account for the
+absence of the mice. Leavenworth, however, came back with:
+
+     Yes, Mrs. Noble, wife of owner of Outlet Store, has white
+     mice for pets. Why?
+
+     Never mind reason [Preston replied]. Watch Noble and wife
+     until I arrive. Leaving to-day.
+
+Ten minutes after reaching Leavenworth Preston was ensconced in the
+office of the chief of police, outlining the reason for his visit.
+
+"I'm certain that Noble is the man you want," said the chief, when Hal
+had finished. "He came here some six weeks or more ago and at once
+leased a store, which he opened a few days later. The description fits
+him to a T, except for the fact that he's evidently dispensed with the
+mustache. The Vaughan woman is posing as his wife and they've rented a
+house on the outskirts of town. What do you want me to do? Nab 'em right
+away?"
+
+"No," directed the operative. "I'd rather attend to that myself, if you
+don't object. After trailing them this far, I'd like to go through with
+it. You might have some men handy, though, in case there's any fuss."
+
+Just as Mr. and Mrs. C. K. Noble were sitting down to dinner there was a
+ring at their front-door bell and Noble went to see who it was.
+
+"I'd like to speak to Mr. H. Gordon Fowler," said Preston, his hand
+resting carelessly in the side pocket of his coat.
+
+"No Mr. Fowler lives here," was the growling reply from the inside.
+
+"Then Mr. W. C. Evans or Mr. Henry Gerard will do!" snapped the
+operative, throwing his shoulder against the partly opened door.
+Noble--or Fowler, as he was afterward known--stepped aside as Hal
+plunged through, and then slammed the door behind him.
+
+"Get him, Anna!" he called, throwing the safety bolt into position.
+
+The next thing that Preston knew, a pair of arms, bare and feminine but
+strong as iron, had seized him around the waist and he was in imminent
+danger of being bested by a woman. With a heave and a wriggling twist he
+broke the hold and turned, just in time to see Fowler snatch a revolver
+from a desk on the opposite side of the room and raise it into position.
+Without an instant's hesitation he leaped to one side, dropped his hand
+into his coat pocket, and fired. Evidently the bullet took effect, for
+the man across the room dropped his gun, spun clean around and then sank
+to the floor. As he did so, however, the woman hurled a heavy vase
+directly at Preston's head and the operative sank unconscious.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, go on!" I snapped, when Quinn paused. "You sound like a serial
+story--to be continued in our next. What happened then?"
+
+"Nothing--beyond the fact that three policemen broke in some ten seconds
+after Hal fired, grabbed Mrs. Vaughan or whatever her name was, and kept
+her from beating Hal to death, as she certainly would have done in
+another minute. Fowler wasn't badly hurt. In fact, both of them stood
+trial the next spring--Fowler drawing six years and Anna Vaughan one.
+Incidentally, they sent 'em back to Leavenworth to do time and, as a
+great concession, allowed the woman to take two of her white mice with
+her. I managed to get one of the other four, and, when it died, had it
+stuffed as a memento of a puzzling case well solved.
+
+"It's a hobby of mine--keeping these relics. That hatchet, for
+example.... Remind me to tell you about it some time. The mice were
+responsible for finding one man in fifty million--which is something of
+a job in itself--but the hatchet figured in an even more exciting
+affair...."
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+WAH LEE AND THE FLOWER OF HEAVEN
+
+
+"Yes, there's quite a story attached to that," remarked Bill Quinn one
+evening as the conversation first lagged and then drifted away into
+silence. We were seated in his den at the time--the "library" which he
+had ornamented with relics of a score or more of cases in which the
+various governmental detective services had distinguished
+themselves--and I came to with a start.
+
+"What?" I exclaimed. "Story in what?"
+
+"In that hatchet--the one on the wall there that you were speculating
+about. It didn't take a psychological sleuth to follow your eyes and
+read the look of speculation in them. That's a trick that a 'sparrow
+cop' could pull!"
+
+"Well, then, suppose you pay the penalty for your wisdom--and spin the
+yarn," I retorted, none the less glad of the opportunity to hear the
+facts behind the sinister red stain which appeared on the blade of the
+Chinese weapon, for I knew that Quinn could give them to me if he
+wished.
+
+"Frankly, I don't know the full history of the hatchet," came the answer
+from the other side of the fireplace. "Possibly it goes back to the Ming
+dynasty--whenever that was--or possibly it was purchased from a
+mail-order house in Chicago. Chop suey isn't the only Chinese article
+made in this country, you know. But my interest in it commenced with the
+night when Ezra Marks--
+
+"However, let's start at the beginning."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Marks [continued the former operative] was, as you probably recall, one
+of the best men ever connected with the Customs Service. It was he who
+solved the biggest diamond-smuggling case on record, and he was also
+responsible for the discovery of the manner in which thirty thousand
+yards of very valuable silk was being run into the country every year
+without visiting the custom office. That's a piece of the silk up there,
+over the picture of Mrs. Armitage....
+
+It wasn't many months before the affair of the Dillingham diamonds that
+official Washington in general and the offices of the Customs Service in
+particular grew quite excited over the fact that a lot of opium was
+finding its way into California. Of course, there's always a fair amount
+of "hop" on the market, provided you know where to look for it, and the
+government has about as much chance of keeping it out altogether as it
+has of breaking up the trade in moonshine whisky. The mountaineer is
+going to have his "licker" and the Chink is going to have his dope--no
+matter what you do. But it's up to the Internal Revenue Bureau and the
+Customs Service to see that neither one arrives in wholesale quantities.
+And that was just what was happening on the Coast.
+
+In fact, it was coming in so fast that the price was dropping every day
+and the California authorities fairly burned up the wires 'cross
+continent with their howls for help.
+
+At that time Marks--Ezra by name and "E. Z." by nickname--was
+comparatively a new member of the force. He had rendered valuable
+service in Boston, however, and the chief sent for him and put the whole
+thing in his hands.
+
+"Get out to San Diego as quickly as you know how," snapped the chief,
+tossing over a sheaf of yellow telegraph slips. "There's all the
+information we have, and apparently you won't get much more out
+there--unless you dig it up for yourself. All they seem to know is that
+the stuff is coming in by the carload and is being peddled in all the
+hop joints at a lower price than ever before. It's up to you to get the
+details. Any help you need will be supplied from the San Francisco
+office, but my advice is to play a lone hand--you're likely to get
+further than if you have a gang with you all the time."
+
+"That's my idear, Chief," drawled Ezra, who hailed from Vermont and had
+all the New Englander's affection for single-handed effort, not because
+he had the least objection to sharing the glory, but simply because he
+considered it the most efficient way to work. "I'll get right out there
+and see how the land lays."
+
+"Needn't bother to report until you discover something worth while,"
+added the chief. "I'll know that you're on the job and the farther you
+keep away from headquarters the less suspicion you're likely to arouse."
+
+This was the reason that, beyond the fact they knew that an operative
+named Marks had been sent from Washington to look into the opium matter,
+the government agents on the Coast were completely in the dark as to the
+way in which the affair was being handled. In fact, the chief himself
+was pretty well worried when two months slipped by without a word from
+Ezra....
+
+But the big, raw-boned Yankee was having troubles of his own. Likewise,
+he took his instructions very seriously and didn't see the least reason
+for informing Washington of the very patent fact that he had gotten
+nowhere and found out nothing.
+
+"They know where they can reach me," he argued to himself one night,
+about the time that the chief began to wonder if his man were floating
+around the bay with a piece of Chinese rope about his neck. "Unless I
+get a wire they won't hear anything until I have at least a line on this
+gang."
+
+Then, on going over the evidence which he had collected during the weeks
+that he had been in San Diego, he found that there was extremely little
+of it. Discreet questioning had developed the fact, which he already
+knew, that opium was plentiful all along the Coast, and that,
+presumably, it was supplied from a point in the south of the state. But
+all his efforts to locate the source of the drug brought him up against
+a blank wall.
+
+In order to conduct his investigations with a minimum of suspicion,
+Marks had elected to enter San Diego in the guise of a derelict--a
+character which he had played to such perfection that two weeks after he
+arrived he found himself in court on the charge of vagrancy. Only the
+fact that the presiding magistrate did not believe in sentencing first
+offenders saved him from ten days in the workhouse, an opportunity which
+he was rather sorry to miss because he figured that he might pick up
+some valuable leads from the opium addicts among his fellow prisoners.
+
+The only new point which he had developed during his stay in the
+underworld was that some one named Sprague, presumably an American, was
+the brains of the opium ring and had perfected the entire plan. But who
+Sprague was or where he might be found were matters which were kept in
+very watchful secrecy.
+
+"I give it up," muttered the operative, shrugging his arms into a
+threadbare coat and shambling out of the disreputable rooming house
+which passed for home. "Work doesn't seem to get me anywhere. Guess I'll
+have to trust to luck," and he wandered out for his nightly stroll
+through the Chinese quarter, hoping against hope that something would
+happen.
+
+It did--in bunches!
+
+Possibly it was luck, possibly it was fate--which, after all, is only
+another name for luck--that brought him into an especially unsavory
+portion of the city shortly after midnight.
+
+He had wandered along for three hours or more, with no objective in view
+save occasional visits to dives where he was known, when he heard
+something which caused him to whirl and automatically reach for his hip
+pocket. It was the cry of a woman, shrill and clear--the cry of a woman
+in mortal danger!
+
+It had only sounded once, but there was a peculiar muffled quality at
+the end of the note, suggestive of a hand or a gag having been placed
+over the woman's mouth. Then--silence, so still as to be almost
+oppressive.
+
+Puzzled, Marks stood stock still and waited. So far as he could remember
+that was the first time that he had heard anything of the kind in
+Chinatown. He knew that there were women there, but they were kept well
+in the background and, apparently, were content with their lot. The
+woman who had screamed, however, was in danger of her life. Behind one
+of those flimsy walls some drama was being enacted in defiance of the
+law--something was being done which meant danger of the most deadly kind
+to him who dared to interfere.
+
+For a full minute Marks weighed the importance of his official mission
+against his sense of humanity. Should he take a chance on losing his
+prey merely to try to save a woman's life? Should he attempt to find the
+house from which the scream had come and force the door? Should he....
+
+But the question was solved for him in a manner even more startling than
+the cry in the night.
+
+While he was still debating the door of a house directly in front of him
+opened wide and a blinding glare of light spread fanwise into the
+street. Across this there shot the figure of what Marks at first took to
+be a man--a figure attired in a long, heavily embroidered jacket and
+silken trousers. As it neared him, however, the operative sensed that it
+was a woman, and an instant later he knew that it was the woman whose
+stifled scream had halted him only a moment before.
+
+Straight toward Marks she came and, close behind her--their faces set in
+a look of deadly implacable rage--raced two large Chinamen.
+
+Probably realizing that she stood no chance of escape in the open
+street, the woman darted behind Marks and prepared to dodge her
+pursuers. As she did so the operative caught her panting appeal: "Save
+me! For the sake of the God, save me!"
+
+That was all that was necessary. Ezra sensed in an instant the fact that
+he had become embroiled in what bade fair to be a tragedy and braced
+himself for action. He knew that he had no chance for holding off both
+men, particularly as he did not care to precipitate gun play, but there
+was the hope that he might divert them until the girl escaped.
+
+As the first of the two men leaped toward him, Marks swung straight for
+his jaw, but his assailant ducked with what was almost professional
+rapidity and the blow was only a glancing one. Before the operative had
+time to get set the other man was upon him and, in utter silence save
+for their labored breathing and dull thuds as blows went home, they
+fought their way back to the far side of the street. As he retreated,
+Marks became conscious that instead of making her escape, the girl was
+still behind him. The reason for this became apparent when the larger of
+the Chinamen suddenly raised his arm and the light from the open doorway
+glinted on the blade of a murderous short-handled axe--the favorite
+weapon of Tong warfare. Straight for his head the blade descended, but
+the girl's arm, thrust out of the darkness behind him, diverted the blow
+and the hatchet fairly whistled as it passed within an inch of his body.
+
+Realizing that his only hope of safety lay in reaching the opposite side
+of the sidewalk, where he would be able to fight with his back against
+the wall, Marks resumed his retreat, his arms moving like flails, his
+fists crashing home blows that lost much of their power by reason of the
+heavily padded jackets of his opponents. Finally, after seconds that
+seemed like hours, one of his blows found the jaw of the man nearest
+him, and Marks wheeled to set himself for the onrush of the other--the
+man with the hatchet.
+
+But just at that moment his foot struck the uneven curbing and threw him
+off his balance. He was conscious of an arc of light as the blade sang
+through the air; he heard a high, half-muffled cry from the girl beside
+him; and he remembered trying to throw himself out of the way of the
+hatchet. Then there was a stinging, smarting pain in the side of his
+head and in his left shoulder--followed by the blackness of oblivion.
+
+From somewhere, apparently a long distance off, there came a voice which
+brought back at least a part of the operative's fast failing
+consciousness, a voice which called a name vaguely familiar to him:
+
+"Sprague! Sprague!"
+
+"Sprague?" muttered Marks, trying to collect himself.
+"Who--is--Sprague?"
+
+Then, as he put it later, he "went off."
+
+How much time elapsed before he came to he was unable to say, but
+subsequent developments indicated that it was at least a day and a
+night. He hadn't the slightest idea what had occurred meanwhile--he only
+knew that he seemed to drift back to consciousness and a realization
+that his head was splitting as if it would burst. Mechanically he
+stretched his legs and tried to rise, only to find that what appeared to
+be a wooden wall closed him in on all sides, leaving an opening only
+directly above him.
+
+For an appreciable time he lay still, trying to collect his thoughts. He
+recalled the fight in the open street, the intervention of the girl, the
+fall over the curb and then--there was something that he couldn't
+remember, something vital that had occurred just after he had tried to
+dodge the hatchet blade.
+
+"Yes," he murmured, as memory returned, "it was some one calling for
+'Sprague--Sprague!'"
+
+"Hush!" came a whispered command out of the darkness which surrounded
+him, and a hand, soft and very evidently feminine, covered his mouth.
+"You must not mention that name here. It means the death, instant and
+terrible! They are discussing your fate in there now, but if they had
+thought that you knew Wah Lee your life would not be worth a yen."
+
+"Wah Lee? Who is he?" Marks replied, his voice pitched in an undertone.
+"I don't remember any Wah Lee. And who are you?"
+
+"Who I am does not matter," came out of the darkness, "but Wah Lee--he
+is the master of life and death--the high priest of the Flower of
+Heaven. Had it not been for him you would have been dead before this."
+
+"But I thought--"
+
+"That he desired your life? So he did--and does. But they have to plan
+the way in which it is to be taken and the disposition which is to be
+made of your body. That was what gave me my opportunity for binding up
+your wound and watching for you to wake."
+
+In spite of himself Marks could not repress a slight shudder. So they
+were saving him for the sacrifice, eh? They were going to keep him here
+until their arrangements were complete and then make away with him, were
+they?
+
+Moving cautiously, so as to avoid attracting attention, the operative
+slipped his right hand toward his hip pocket, only to find that his
+automatic was missing. As he settled back with a half moan, he felt
+something cold slipped into the box beside him, and the girl's voice
+whispered:
+
+"Your revolver. I secured it when they brought you in here. I thought
+you might need it later. But be very careful. They must not suspect that
+you have wakened."
+
+"I will," promised Marks, "but who are you? Why should you take such an
+interest in me?"
+
+"You tried to save me from something that is worse than death," replied
+the girl. "You failed, but it was not your fault. Could I do less than
+to help you?"
+
+"But what was it you feared?"
+
+"Marriage! Marriage to the man I loathe above all others--the man who is
+responsible for the opium that is drugging my people--the man who is
+known as Wah Lee, but who is really an American." Here she hesitated for
+a moment and then hissed:
+
+"Sprague!"
+
+"Sprague?" Marks echoed, sitting bolt upright. But the girl had gone,
+swallowed up somewhere in the impenetrable darkness which filled the
+room.
+
+His brain cleared by the realization that he had blundered into the
+heart of the opium-runners' den, it took Ezra only a few seconds to
+formulate a plan of action. The first thing, of course, was to get away.
+But how could that be accomplished when he did not even know where he
+was or anything about the house? The girl had said something about the
+fact that "they were considering his fate." Who were "they" and where
+were they?
+
+Obviously, the only way to find this out was to do a little scouting on
+his own account, so, slowly and carefully, he raised himself clear of
+the boxlike arrangement in which he had been placed and tried to figure
+out his surroundings. His hand, groping over the side, came into almost
+instant contact with the floor and he found it a simple matter to step
+out into what appeared to be a cleared space in the center of a
+comparatively large room. Then, curious as to the place where he had
+been concealed, he felt the box from one end to the other. The sides
+were about two feet high and slightly sloping, with an angle near the
+head. In fact, both ends of the affair were narrower than the portion
+which had been occupied by his shoulders. Piled up at either end of this
+box were others, of the same shape and size. What could their purpose
+be? Why the odd shape?
+
+Suddenly the solution of the mystery flashed across the operative's
+mind--coffins! Coffins which appeared to be piled up on all sides of the
+storeroom. Was this the warehouse for a Chinese undertaker or was it--
+
+One coffin over which he nearly tripped gave him the answer. It was
+partly filled with cans, unlabeled and quite heavy--containers which
+Marks felt certain were packed full of opium and smuggled in some manner
+inside the coffins.
+
+Just as he arrived at this conclusion Marks' eye was caught by a tiny
+streak of light filtering through the wall on the opposite side of the
+room. Making his way carefully toward this, he found that the crack
+presented a fairly complete view of an adjoining apartment in which
+three Chinese, evidently of high degree, were sorting money and entering
+accounts in large books.
+
+As he looked, a fourth figure entered the room--a man who caused him to
+catch his breath and flatten himself against the wall, for he recognized
+the larger of the two Chinamen who had attacked him the night before--or
+whenever it was. This was the man to whom the girl had alluded as "Wah
+Lee, High Priest of the Flower of Heaven"--which was merely another way
+of saying that he had charge of the opium shipments.
+
+As he entered the others rose and remained standing until he had seated
+himself. Then one of them commenced to speak in rapid, undistinguishable
+Chinese. Before he had had time to pronounce more than a few words,
+however, Wah Lee interrupted him with a command couched in English to:
+"Cut that out! You know I don't understand that gibberish well enough to
+follow you."
+
+"Beg pardon," replied the other. "I always forget. You are so like one
+of us that, even in private, I find it hard to remember."
+
+Wah Lee said nothing, but, slipping off his silken jacket, settled back
+at his ease. A moment later Marks was amazed to see him remove his
+mandarin's cap, and with it came a wig of coal-black hair!
+
+For the first time the government agent realized what the girl had meant
+when she intimated that Wah Lee and Sprague were one and the same--an
+American who was masquerading as Chinese in order to further his
+smuggling plans!
+
+"Word has just arrived," continued the man who had first spoken, "that
+the boat will be off Point Banda to-night. That will allow us to pick up
+the coffins before daybreak and bury them until such time as the
+American hounds are off their guard."
+
+"Yes," grunted Sprague, "and let's hope that that's soon. We must have
+fifty thousand dollars' worth of the stuff cached on the other side of
+the border and orders are coming in faster than we can fill them. I
+think it would be best to run this cargo right in. We can stage a
+funeral, if necessary, and avoid suspicion in that way. Wait a minute!
+I've got a hunch! What about the bum we carried in here last night--the
+one that tried to help Anita in her getaway?"
+
+"Anita?"
+
+"Yes, my girl. I can't remember that rigmarole you people call her.
+Anita's her name from now on."
+
+"He is in the next room, unconscious. Two of the men dumped him in one
+of the empty coffins and let him stay there."
+
+"Good," chuckled Sprague. "We'll just let him remain--run him across the
+border, and bring his body back in a big hearse. The coffin and the body
+will be real, but there'll be enough cans of dope packed in and around
+him and in the carriages of the 'mourners' to make us all rich. It's the
+chance of a lifetime for a big play, because no one will ever suspect us
+or even inquire into his identity."
+
+Behind the thin wall which separated him from the next room Marks
+stiffened and his fingers wound themselves even more tightly around the
+butt of his automatic. It is not given to many men to hear their death
+sentence pronounced in a manner as dramatic and cold-blooded as were the
+words which came from the outer apartment. By listening intently, Ezra
+learned that the coup would be sprung sometime within the next few
+hours, the conspirators feeling that it would not be safe to delay, as
+the opium shipment was due before dawn.
+
+Moving silently and aided somewhat by the fact that his eyes had become
+a little accustomed to the inky blackness, Marks made his way back to
+the place where he had awakened. He knew that that was where they would
+expect to find him and he also knew that this was the one place to
+avoid. So he located the door and, finding it bolted from the outside,
+placed himself where he would be at least partly sheltered when the
+party entered.
+
+After what seemed to be an interminable time he finally heard a sound
+from the hallway--the soft slip-slip of felt shoes approaching. Then the
+bolt was withdrawn and the door opened, admitting the four men whom he
+had seen in the other room, and behind them, carrying a lantern, came
+the girl.
+
+Nerving himself for a supreme leap, Marks waited until all five visitors
+were inside the room, and then started to slip through the open doorway.
+But his movement attracted the attention of the man called Sprague and,
+with a cry of warning, he wheeled and fired before the operative could
+gain the safety of the hall. Knowing that his body, outlined against the
+light from outside, would make an ideal target, Ezra dropped to the
+floor and swung his automatic into action. As he did so the girl
+extinguished the lantern with a single swift blow, leaving the room in
+total blackness, save for the path made by the light in the hallway.
+
+For probably twenty seconds there wasn't a sound. Then Marks caught a
+glimpse of a moving figure and fired, leaping to one side as he did so
+in order to avoid the fusillade directed at the flash of his revolver.
+By a cry from the other side of the room he knew that his shot had gone
+home, and a moment later he had an opportunity to wing another of his
+assailants, again drawing a volley of shots. The last shot in his clip
+was fired with a prayer--but it evidently went home, for only silence,
+punctuated by moans from the opposite side of the room, ensued.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That night," concluded Quinn, "a big sailing vessel was met off Point
+Banda and they found a full month's supply of opium aboard of her. A
+search of Lower California, near the border, also disclosed a burying
+ground with many of the graves packed with cans of the drug. The raid,
+of course, was a violation of Mexican neutrality--but they got away with
+it."
+
+"The girl?" I cut in. "What became of her?"
+
+"When the police reached the house a few moments after Marks had fired
+the last shot, they found that Sprague was dead with one of Ezra's
+bullets through his brain. The three Chinamen were wounded, but not
+fatally. The girl, however, was huddled in a corner, dead. No one ever
+discovered whether she stopped one of the bullets from Marks's revolver
+or whether she was killed by Sprague's men as a penalty for putting out
+the lantern. Undoubtedly, that saved Ezra's life--which was the reason
+that he saw that she was given a decent funeral and an adequate memorial
+erected over her grave.
+
+"He also kept her jacket as a memento of the affair, turning the hatchet
+over to me for my collection. Under it you will find a copy of the wire
+he sent the chief."
+
+Curious, I went over and read the yellow slip framed beneath the weapon:
+
+     Opium smuggled in coffins. American, at head of ring, dead.
+     Gang broken up. Opium seized. What next?
+
+                                              MARKS.
+
+"Didn't wait long for another assignment, did he?" I inquired.
+
+"No," was the response. "When you're working for Uncle Sam you come to
+find that excitement is about the only thing that keeps your nerves
+quiet. Sometimes, as in Marks's case, it's the thrill of the actual
+combat. But more often it's the search for a tangible clue--the groping
+in the dark for something you know exists but which you can't lay your
+hands on. That was the trouble with the Cheney case...."
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+THE MAN WITH THREE WIVES
+
+
+One of the first things to strike the eye of the visitor who enters the
+library-den of William J. Quinn--known to his friends and former
+associates in the United States Secret Service as "Bill"--is a frame
+which stands upon the mantel and contains the photographs of three
+exceptionally pretty women.
+
+Anyone who doesn't know that this room is consecrated to relics of the
+exploits of the various governmental detective services might be
+pardoned for supposing that the three pictures in the single frame are
+photographs of relatives. Only closer inspection will reveal the fact
+that beneath them appears a transcript from several pages of a certain
+book of records--the original of which is kept at the New York City
+Hall.
+
+These pages state that....
+
+But suppose we let Quinn tell the story, just as he told it one cold
+November night while the wind was whistling outside and the cheery
+warmth of the fire made things extremely snug within.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Secret Service men [said Quinn] divide all of their cases into two
+classes--those which call for quick action and plenty of it and those
+which demand a great deal of thought and only an hour or so of actual
+physical work. Your typical operative--Allison, who was responsible for
+solving the poison-pen puzzle, for example, or Hal Preston, who
+penetrated the mystery surrounding the murder of Montgomery Marshall--is
+essentially a man of action. He likes to tackle a job and get it over
+with. It doesn't make any difference if he has to round up a half dozen
+counterfeiters at the point of a single revolver--as Tommy Callahan once
+did--or break up a gang of train robbers who have sworn never to be
+taken alive. As long as he has plenty of thrills and excitement, as long
+as he is able to get some joy out of life, he doesn't give a hang for
+the risk. That's his business and he loves it.
+
+But it's the long-drawn-out cases which he has to ponder over and
+consider from a score of angles that, in the vernacular of vaudeville,
+capture his Angora. Give him an assignment where he can trail his man
+for a day or two, get the lay of the land, and then drop on the bunch
+like a ton o' brick and everything's fine. Give him one of the other
+kind and--well, he's just about as happy as Guy Randall was when they
+turned him loose with instructions to get something on Carl Cheney.
+
+Remember during the early days of the war when the papers were full of
+stories from New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Milwaukee and points west
+about gatherings of pro-German sympathizers who were determined to aid
+the Fatherland? Theoretically, we were neutral at that time and these
+people had all the scope they wanted. They did not confine themselves to
+talk, however, but laid several plans which were destined to annoy the
+government and to keep several hundred operatives busy defeating
+them--for they were aimed directly at our policy of neutrality.
+
+As a campaign fund to assure the success of these operations, the German
+sympathizers raised not less than sixteen million dollars--a sum which
+naturally excited the cupidity not only of certain individuals within
+their own ranks, but also of persons on the outside--men who were
+accustomed to live by their wits and who saw in this gigantic collection
+the opportunity of a lifetime.
+
+When you consider that you can hire a New York gangster to commit murder
+for a couple of hundred dollars--and the "union scale" has been known to
+be even lower--it's no wonder that the mere mention of sixteen million
+dollars caused many a crook of international reputation to figure how he
+could divert at least a part of this to his own bank account. That's the
+way, as it afterward turned out, that Carl Cheney looked at it.
+
+Cheney had rubbed elbows with the police on several occasions prior to
+nineteen fourteen. It was suspected that he had been mixed up in a
+number of exceptionally clever smuggling schemes and that he had had a
+finger in one or two operations which came perilously close to
+blackmail. But no one had ever been able to get anything on him. He was
+the original Finnigin--"In agin, gone agin." By the time the plan came
+to a successful conclusion all that remained of "Count Carl's"
+connection with it was a vague and distinctly nebulous shadow--and you
+simply can't arrest shadows, no matter how hard you try.
+
+The New York police were the first to tip Washington off to the fact
+that Cheney, who had dropped his aristocratic alias for the time being,
+was back in this country and had been seen in the company of a number of
+prominent members of a certain German-American club which wasn't in any
+too good repute with the Department of Justice by reason of the efforts
+of some of its members to destroy the neutral stand of the nation.
+
+     Have no indications of what Cheney is doing [the report
+     admitted], but it will be well to trail him. Apparently he
+     has some connection, officially or unofficially, with
+     Berlin. Advise what action you wish us to take.
+
+Whereupon the chief wired back:
+
+     Operative assigned to Cheney case leaves to-night. Meanwhile
+     please watch.
+
+It wasn't until after the wire had been sent that Guy Randall was
+summoned to the inner sanctum of the Secret Service and informed that he
+had been elected to trail the elusive suspect and find out what he was
+up to.
+
+"So far as our records show," stated the chief, "no one has ever been
+able to catch this Cheney person in the act of departing from the
+straight and narrow path. However, that's a matter of the past. What
+we've got to find out is what he is planning now--why he is in New York
+and why he has attached himself to the pro-German element which has all
+kinds of wild schemes up its sleeve."
+
+"And I'm the one who's got to handle it?" inquired Guy, with a grimace.
+
+"Precisely," grinned the chief. "Oh, I know it doesn't look like much of
+a job and I grant you that the thrill element will probably be lacking.
+But you can't draw a snap every time. All that's asked is that you get
+something on Cheney--something which will withstand the assaults of the
+lawyers he will undoubtedly hire the minute we lay hands on him.
+Therefore you've got to be mighty careful to have the right dope. If
+you're satisfied that he's doing nothing out of the way, don't hesitate
+to say so. But I don't expect that your report will clear him, for, from
+what we already know of the gentleman, he's more likely to be implicated
+in some plan aimed directly at a violation of neutrality, and it's
+essential that we find out what that is before we take any radical
+step."
+
+"What do you know about Cheney?" was Randall's next question, followed
+by an explanation from the chief that the "count" had been suspected in
+a number of cases and had barely been able to escape in time.
+
+"But," added the head of the Secret Service, "he did escape. And that's
+what we have to prevent this time. He's a fast worker and a clever
+one--which means that you've got to keep continually after him. Call in
+all the help you need, but if you take my advice you'll handle the case
+alone. You're apt to get a lot further that way."
+
+Agreeing that this was the best method to pursue, Randall caught the
+midnight train for New York and went at once to police headquarters,
+where he requested a full description of Cheney's previous activities.
+
+"You're asking for something what ain't," he was informed,
+ungrammatically, but truthfully. "We've never been able to get a thing
+on the count, though we're dead certain that he had a finger in several
+crooked plays. The Latimer letters were never directly traced to him,
+but it's a cinch that he had something to do with their preparation,
+just as he had with the blackmailing of old man Branchfield and the
+smuggling of the van Husen emeralds. You remember that case, don't you?
+The one where the stones were concealed in a life preserver and they
+staged a 'man overboard' stunt just as the ship came into the harbor.
+Nobody ever got the stones or proved that they were actually
+smuggled--but the count happened to be on the ship at the time, just as
+he 'happened' to be in Paris when they were sold. We didn't even dare
+arrest him, which accounts for the fact that his photograph doesn't
+ornament the Rogues' Gallery."
+
+"Well, what's the idea of trailing him, then?"
+
+"Just to find out what he is doing. What d'ye call those birds that fly
+around at sea just before a gale breaks--stormy petrels? That's the
+count! He's a stormy petrel of crookedness. Something goes wrong every
+time he hits a town--or, rather, just after he leaves, for he's too
+clever to stick around too long. The question now is, What's this
+particular storm and when is it goin' to break?"
+
+"Fine job to turn me loose on," grumbled Randall.
+
+"It is that," laughed the captain who was dispensing information. "But
+you can never tell what you'll run into, me boy. Why I remember once--"
+
+Randall, however, was out of the office before the official had gotten
+well started on his reminiscences. He figured that he had already had
+too much of a grouch to listen patiently to some long-winded story dug
+out of the musty archives of police history and he made his way at once
+to the hotel where Carl Cheney was registered, flaunting his own name in
+front of the police whom he must have known were watching him.
+
+Neither the house detective nor the plain-clothes man who had been
+delegated to trail Cheney could add anything of interest to the little
+that Randall already knew. The "count," they said, had conducted himself
+in a most circumspect manner and had not been actually seen in
+conference with any of the Germans with whom he was supposed to be in
+league.
+
+"He's too slick for that," added the man from the Central Office.
+"Whenever he's got a conference on he goes up to the Club and you can't
+get in there with anything less than a battering ram and raiding squad.
+There's no chance to plant a dictaphone, and how else are you going to
+get the information?"
+
+"What does he do at other times?" countered Guy, preferring not to
+reply to the former question until he had gotten a better line on the
+case.
+
+"Behaves himself," was the laconic answer. "Takes a drive in the Park in
+the afternoon, dines here or at one of the other hotels, goes to the
+theater and usually finishes up with a little supper somewhere among the
+white lights."
+
+"Any women in sight?"
+
+"Yes--two. A blond from the girl-show that's playin' at the
+Knickerbocker and a red-head. Don't know who she is--but they're both
+good lookers. No scandal, though. Everything appears to be on the
+level--even the women."
+
+"Well," mused the government operative after a moment's silence, "I
+guess I better get on the job. Probably means a long stretch of dull
+work, but the sooner I get at it the sooner I'll get over it. Where is
+Cheney now?"
+
+"Up in his room. Hasn't come down to breakfast yet. Yes. There he is
+now. Just getting out of the elevator--headed toward the dinin' room,"
+and the plain-clothes man indicated the tall figure of a man about
+forty, a man dressed in the height of fashion, with spats, a cane, and a
+morning coat of the most correct cut. "Want me for anything?"
+
+"Not a thing," said Randall, absently. "I'll pick him up now. You might
+tell the chief to watch out for a hurry call from me--though I'm afraid
+he won't get it."
+
+As events proved, Randall was dead right. The Central Office heard
+nothing from him for several months, and even Washington received only
+stereotyped reports indicative of what Cheney was doing--which wasn't
+much.
+
+Shortly after the first of the year, Guy sent a wire to the chief,
+asking to be relieved for a day or two in order that he might be free to
+come to Washington. Sensing the fact that the operative had some plan
+which he wished to discuss personally, the chief put another man on
+Cheney's trail and instructed Randall to report at the Treasury
+Department on the following morning.
+
+"What's the matter?" inquired the man at the head of the Service as Guy,
+a little thinner than formerly and showing by the wrinkles about his
+eyes the strain under which he was working, strolled into the office.
+
+"Nothing's the matter, Chief--and that's where the trouble lies. You
+know I've never kicked about work, no matter how much of it I've had.
+But this thing's beginning to get on my nerves. Cheney is planning some
+coup. I'm dead certain of that. What it's all about, though, I haven't
+the least idea. The plans are being laid in the German-American Club and
+there's no chance of getting in there."
+
+"How about bribing one of the employees to leave?"
+
+"Can't be done. I've tried it--half a dozen times. They're all Germans
+and, as such, in the organization. However, I have a plan. Strictly
+speaking, it's outside the law, but that's why I wanted to talk things
+over with you...."
+
+When Randall had finished outlining his plan the chief sat for a moment
+in thought. Then, "Are you sure you can put it over?" he inquired.
+
+"Of course I can. It's done every other day, anyhow, by the cops
+themselves. Why shouldn't we take a leaf out of their book?"
+
+"I know. But there's always the possibility of a diplomatic protest."
+
+"Not in this case, Chief. The man's only a waiter and, besides, before
+the embassy has a chance to hear about it I'll have found out what I
+want to know. Then, if they want to raise a row, let 'em."
+
+The upshot of the matter was that, about a week later, Franz Heilman, a
+waiter employed at the German-American Club in New York, was arrested
+one night and haled into Night Court on a charge of carrying concealed
+weapons--a serious offense under the Sullivan Act. In vain he protested
+that he had never carried a pistol in his life. Patrolman Flaherty, who
+had made the arrest, produced the weapon which he claimed to have found
+in Heilman's possession and the prisoner was held for trial.
+
+Bright and early the next morning Randall, disguised by a mustache which
+he had trained for just such an occasion and bearing a carefully
+falsified letter from a German brewer in Milwaukee, presented himself at
+the employee's entrance of the German-American Club and asked for the
+steward. To that individual he told his story--how he had tried to get
+back to the Fatherland and had failed, how he had been out of work for
+nearly a month, and how he would like to secure employment of some kind
+at the Club where he would at least be among friends.
+
+After a thorough examination of the credentials of the supposed
+German--who had explained his accent by the statement that he had been
+brought to the United States when very young and had been raised in
+Wisconsin--the steward informed him that there was a temporary vacancy
+in the Club staff which he could fill until Heilman returned.
+
+"The duties," the steward added, "are very light and the pay, while not
+large, will enable you to lay by a little something toward your return
+trip to Germany."
+
+Knowing that his time was limited, Randall determined to let nothing
+stand in the way of his hearing all that went on in the room where
+Cheney and his associates held their conferences. It was the work of
+only a few moments to bore holes in the door which connected this room
+with an unused coat closet--plugging up the holes with corks stained to
+simulate the wood itself--and the instant the conference was on the new
+waiter disappeared.
+
+An hour later he slipped out of the side entrance to the Club and the
+steward is probably wondering to this day what became of him. Had he
+been able to listen in on the private wire which connected the New York
+office of the Secret Service with headquarters at Washington, he would
+have had the key to the mystery.
+
+"Chief," reported Randall, "I've got the whole thing. There's a plot on
+foot to raise one hundred and fifty thousand German reservists--men
+already in this country--mobilizing them in four divisions, with six
+sections. The first two divisions are to assemble at Silvercreek,
+Michigan--the first one seizing the Welland Canal and the second
+capturing Wind Mill Point, Ontario. The third is to meet at Wilson, N.
+Y., and will march on Port Hope. The fourth will go from Watertown, N.
+Y., to Kingston, Ontario, while the fifth will assemble somewhere near
+Detroit and proceed toward Windsor. The sixth will stage an attack on
+Ottawa, operating from Cornwall.
+
+"They've got their plans all laid for the coup, and Cheney reported
+to-day that he intends to purchase some eighty-five boats to carry the
+invading force into the Dominion. The only thing that's delaying the
+game is the question of provisions for the army. Cheney's holding out
+for another advance--from what I gathered he's already received a
+lot--and claims that he will be powerless unless he gets it. I didn't
+stay to listen to the argument, for I figured that I'd better leave
+while the leaving was good."
+
+The reply that came back from Washington was rather startling to the
+operative, who expected only commendation and the statement that his
+task was completed.
+
+"What evidence have you that this invasion is planned?"
+
+"None besides what I heard through holes which I bored in one of the
+doors of the German-American Club this morning."
+
+"That won't stand in court! We don't dare to arrest this man Cheney on
+that. You've got to get something on him."
+
+"Plant it?"
+
+"No! Get it straight. And we can't wait for this expedition to start,
+either. That would be taking too much of a chance. It's up to you to do
+a little speedy work in the research line. Dig back into the count's
+past and find something on which we can hold him, for he's very
+evidently the brains of the organization, in spite of the fact that he
+probably is working only for what he can get of that fund that the
+Germans have raised. I understand that it's sixteen million dollars and
+that's enough to tempt better men than Cheney. Now go to it, and
+remember--you've got to work fast!"
+
+Disappointed, chagrined by the air of finality with which the receiver
+at the Washington end of the line was hung up, Randall wandered out of
+the New York office with a scowl on his face and deep lines of thought
+between his eyes. If he hadn't been raised in the school which holds
+that a man's only irretrievable mistake is to quit under fire, he'd have
+thrown up his job right there and let some one else tackle the work of
+landing the count. But he had to admit that the chief was right and,
+besides, there was every reason to suppose that grave issues hung in the
+balance. The invasion of Canada meant the overthrow of American
+neutrality, the failure of the plans which the President and the State
+Department had so carefully laid.
+
+Cheney was the crux of the whole situation. Once held on a charge that
+could be proved in court, the plot would fall through for want of a
+capable leader--for the operative had learned enough during his hour in
+the cloak-room to know that "the count" was the mainspring of the whole
+movement, despite the fact that he undoubtedly expected to reap a rich
+financial harvest for himself.
+
+Selecting a seat on the top of a Fifth Avenue bus, Randall resigned
+himself to a consideration of the problem.
+
+"The whole thing," he figured, "simmers down to Cheney himself. In its
+ramifications, of course, it's a question of peace or war--but in
+reality it's a matter of landing a crook by legitimate means. I can't
+plant a gun on him, like they did on Heilman, and there's mighty little
+chance of connecting him with the Branchfield case or the van Husen
+emeralds at this late date. His conduct around town has certainly been
+blameless enough. Not even any women to speak of. Wait a minute, though!
+There were two. The blond from the Knickerbocker and that red-haired
+dame. He's still chasing around with the blond--but what's become of
+Miss Red-head?"
+
+This train of thought had possibilities. If the girl had been cast
+aside, it was probable that she would have no objection to telling what
+she knew--particularly as the color of her hair hinted at the possession
+of what the owner would call "temperament," while the rest of the world
+forgets to add the last syllable.
+
+It didn't take long to locate the owner of the fiery tresses. A quick
+round-up of the head waiters at the cafes which Cheney frequented, a
+taxi trip to Washington Square and another to the section above Columbus
+Circle, and Randall found that the red-haired beauty was known as Olga
+Brainerd, an artist's model, whose face had appeared upon the cover of
+practically every popular publication in the country. She had been out
+of town for the past two months, he learned, but had just returned and
+had taken an apartment in a section of the city which indicated the
+possession of considerable capital.
+
+"Miss Brainerd," said Randall, when he was face to face with the Titian
+beauty in the drawing-room of her suite, "I came with a message from
+your friend, Carl Cheney."
+
+Here he paused and watched her expression very closely. As he had hoped,
+the girl was unable to master her feelings. Rage and hate wrote
+themselves large across her face and her voice fairly snapped as she
+started to reply. Randall, however, interrupted her with a smile and the
+statement:
+
+"That's enough! I'm going to lay my cards face up on the table. I am a
+Secret Service operative seeking information about Cheney. Here is my
+badge, merely to prove that I'm telling the truth. We have reason to
+believe that 'the Count,' as he is called, is mixed up with a pro-German
+plot which, if successful, would imperil the peace of the country. Can
+you tell us anything about him?"
+
+"Can I?" echoed the girl. "The beast! He promised to marry me, more than
+two months ago, and then got infatuated with some blond chit of a chorus
+girl. Just because I lost my head and showed him a letter I had
+received--a letter warning me against him--he flew into a rage and
+threatened.... Well, never mind what he did say. The upshot of the
+affair was that he sent me out of town and gave me enough money to last
+me some time. But he'll pay for his insults!"
+
+"Have you the letter you received?" asked Randall, casually--as if it
+meant little to him whether the girl produced it or not.
+
+"Yes. I kept it. Wait a moment and I'll get it for you." A few seconds
+later she was back with a note, written in a feminine hand--a note which
+read:
+
+     If you are wise you will ask the man who calls himself Carl
+     Cheney what he knows of Paul Weiss, of George Winters, and
+     Oscar Stanley. You might also inquire what has become of
+     Florence and Rose.
+
+                                              (Signed) AMELIA.
+
+Randall looked up with a puzzled expression. "What's all this about?" he
+inquired. "Sounds like Greek to me."
+
+"To me, too," agreed the girl. "But it was enough to make Carl purple
+with rage and, what's more, to separate him from several thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Weiss, Winters, and Stanley," mused Guy. "Those might easily be
+Cheney's former aliases. Florence, Rose, and Amelia? I wonder.... Come
+on, girl, we're going to take a ride down to City Hall! I've got a
+hunch!"
+
+Late that afternoon when Carl Cheney arrived at his hotel he was
+surprised to find a young man awaiting him in his apartment--a man who
+appeared to be perfectly at ease and who slipped over and locked the
+door once the count was safely within the room.
+
+"What does this mean?" demanded Cheney. "By what right--"
+
+"It means," snapped Randall, "that the game's up!" Then, raising his
+voice, he called, "Mrs. Weiss!" and a tall woman parted the curtains at
+the other end of the room; "Mrs. Winters!" and another woman entered;
+"Mrs. Stanley!" and a third came in. With his fingers still caressing
+the butt of the automatic which nestled in his coat pocket, Randall
+continued:
+
+"Cheney--or whatever your real name is--there won't be any invasion of
+Canada. We know all about your plans--in fact, the arsenal on West
+Houston Street is in possession of the police at this moment. It was a
+good idea and undoubtedly you would have cleaned up on it--were it not
+for the fact that I am under the far from painful necessity of arresting
+you on a charge of bigamy--or would you call it 'trigamy'? The records
+at City Hall gave you away, after one of these ladies had been kind
+enough to provide us with a clue to the three aliases under which you
+conducted your matrimonial operations.
+
+"Come on, Count. The Germans may need you worse than we do--but we
+happen to have you!"
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+AFTER SEVEN YEARS
+
+
+Bill Quinn was disgusted. Some one, evidently afflicted with an
+ingrowing sense of humor, had sent him the prospectus of a "school"
+which professed to be able to teach budding aspirants the art of
+becoming a successful detective for the sum of twenty-five dollars, and
+Quinn couldn't appreciate the humor.
+
+"_How to Become a Detective--in Ten Lessons_," he snorted. "It only
+takes one for the man who's got the right stuff in him, and the man that
+hasn't better stay out of the game altogether."
+
+"Well," I retorted, anxious to stir up any kind of an argument that
+might lead to one of Quinn's tales about the exploits of Uncle Sam's
+sleuths, "just what does it take to make a detective?"
+
+It was a moment or two before Quinn replied. Then: "There are only three
+qualities necessary," he replied. "Common sense, the power of
+observation, and perseverance. Given these three, with possibly a dash
+of luck thrown in for good measure, and you'll have a crime expert who
+could stand the heroes of fiction on their heads.
+
+"Take Larry Simmons, for example. No one would ever have accused him of
+having the qualifications of a detective--any more than they would have
+suspected him of being one. But Larry drew a good-sized salary from the
+Bureau of Pensions because he possessed the three qualities I mentioned.
+He had the common sense of a physician, the observation of a trained
+newspaper reporter, and the perseverance of a bulldog. Once he sunk his
+teeth in a problem he never let loose--which was the reason that very
+few people ever put anything over on the Pension Bureau as long as Larry
+was on the job.
+
+"That cap up there," and Quinn pointed to a stained and dilapidated bit
+of headgear which hung upon the wall of his den, "is a memento of one of
+Simmons's cases. The man who bought it would tell you that I'm dead
+right when I say that Larry was persevering. That's putting it mildly."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Quite a while back [continued Quinn, picking up the thread of his story]
+there was a man out in Saint Joseph, Missouri, named Dave Holden. No one
+appeared to know where he came from and, as he conducted himself quietly
+and didn't mix in with his neighbors' affairs, no one cared very much.
+
+Holden hadn't been in town more than a couple of weeks when one of the
+older inhabitants happened to inquire if he were any kin to "Old Dave
+Holden," who had died only a year or two before.
+
+"No," said Holden, "I don't believe I am. My folks all came from Ohio
+and I understand that this Holden was a Missourian."
+
+"That's right," agreed the other, "and a queer character, too. Guess he
+was pretty nigh the only man that fought on the Union side in the Civil
+War that didn't stick th' government for a pension. Had it comin' to
+him, too, 'cause he was a captain when th' war ended. But he always said
+he didn't consider that Uncle Sam owed him anything for doin' his duty.
+Spite of th' protests of his friends, Dave wouldn't ever sign a pension
+blank, either."
+
+A few more questions, carefully directed, gave Holden the history of his
+namesake, and that night he lay awake trying to figure out whether the
+plan which had popped into his head was safe. It promised some easy
+money, but there was the element of risk to be considered.
+
+"After all," he concluded, "I won't be doing anything that isn't
+strictly within the law. My name is David Holden--just as the old man's
+was. The worst that they can do is to turn down the application. I won't
+be committing forgery or anything of the kind. And maybe it'll slip
+through--which would mean a pile of money, because they'll kick in with
+all that accumulated during the past fifty years."
+
+So it was that, in the course of time, an application was filed at the
+Bureau of Pensions in Washington for a pension due "David Holden" of
+Saint Joseph, Missouri, who had fought in the Civil War with the rank of
+captain. But, when the application had been sent over to the War
+Department so that it might be compared with the records on file there,
+it came back with the red-inked notation that "Capt. David Holden had
+died two years before"--giving the precise date of his demise as
+evidence.
+
+The moment that the document reached the desk of the Supervisor of
+Pensions he pressed one of the little pearl buttons in front of him and
+asked that Larry Simmons be sent in. When Larry arrived the chief handed
+him the application without a word.
+
+"Right! I'll look into this," said Larry, folding the paper and slipping
+it into the pocket of his coat.
+
+"Look into it?" echoed the supervisor. "You'll do more than that! You'll
+locate this man Holden--or whatever his right name is--and see that he
+gets all that's coming to him. There've been too many of these cases
+lately. Apparently people think that all they have to do is to file an
+application for a pension and then go off and spend the money. Catch the
+first train for Saint Joe and wire me when you've landed your man. The
+district attorney will attend to the rest of the matter."
+
+The location of David Holden, as Simmons found, was not the simplest of
+jobs. The pension applicant, being comparatively a newcomer, was not
+well known in town, and Simmons finally had to fall back upon the
+expedient of watching the post-office box which Holden had given as his
+address, framing a dummy letter so that the suspect might not think that
+he was being watched.
+
+Holden, however, had rented the box for the sole purpose of receiving
+mail from the Pension Bureau. He had given the number to no one else and
+the fact that the box contained what appeared to be an advertisement
+from a clothing store made him stop and wonder. By that time, however,
+Simmons had him well in sight and followed him to the boarding-house on
+the outskirts of the town where he was staying.
+
+That evening, while he was still wondering at the enterprise of a store
+that could obtain a post-office box number from a government bureau at
+Washington, the solution of the mystery came to him in a decidedly
+unexpected manner. The house in which Holden was staying was
+old-fashioned, one of the kind that are heated, theoretically at least,
+by "registers," open gratings in the wall. Holden's room was directly
+over the parlor on the first floor and the shaft which carried the hot
+air made an excellent sound-transmitter.
+
+It so happened that Simmons, after having made a number of inquiries
+around town about the original Dave Holden, called at the boarding
+house that night to discover what the landlady knew about the other man
+of the same name, who was seated in the room above.
+
+Suddenly, like a voice from nowhere, came the statement in a
+high-pitched feminine voice: "I really don't know anything about him at
+all. Mr. Holden came here about six weeks ago and asked me to take him
+in to board. He seemed to be a very nice, quiet gentleman, who was
+willing to pay his rent in advance. So I let him have one of the best
+rooms in the house."
+
+At the mention of his name Holden listened intently. Who was inquiring
+about him, and why?
+
+There was only a confused mumble--apparently a man's reply, pitched in a
+low tone--and then the voice of the landlady again came clearly through
+the register:
+
+"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't do anything like that. Mr. Holden is...."
+
+But that was all that the pension applicant waited for. Moving with the
+rapidity of a frightened animal, he secured one or two articles of value
+from his dresser, crammed a hat into his pocket, slipped on a raincoat,
+and vaulted out of the window, alighting on the sloping roof of a shed
+just below. Before he had quitted the room, however, he had caught the
+words "arrest on a charge of attempting to obtain money under false
+pretenses."
+
+Some two minutes later there was a knock on his door and a voice
+demanded admittance. There was no reply. Again the demand, followed by a
+rattling of the doorknob and a tentative shake of the door. In all, it
+was probably less than five minutes after Larry Simmons had entered the
+parlor before he had burst in the door of Holden's room. But the bird
+had flown and the open window pointed to the direction of his flight.
+
+Unfortunately for the operative the night was dark and the fugitive was
+decidedly more familiar with the surrounding country than Larry was. By
+the time he had secured the assistance of the police half an hour had
+elapsed, and there weren't even any telltale footprints to show in which
+direction the missing man had gone.
+
+"See that men are placed so as to guard the railroad station," Simmons
+directed, "and pass the word up and down the line that a medium-sized
+man, about thirty-five years of age, with black hair and a rather ruddy
+complexion--a man wanted by the government on a charge of false
+pretenses--is trying to make his escape. If anyone reports him, let me
+know at once."
+
+That, under the circumstances, was really all that Larry could do. It
+ought to be an easy matter to locate the fugitive, he figured, and it
+would only be a question of a few days before he was safely in jail.
+
+Bright and early the next morning the operative was awakened by a
+bell-boy who informed him that the chief of police would like to see
+him.
+
+"Show him in," said Larry, fully expecting to see the chief enter with a
+handcuffed prisoner. But the head of the police force came in alone,
+carrying a bundle, which he gravely presented to Simmons.
+
+"What's this?" inquired the pension agent.
+
+"All that's left of your friend Holden," was the reply. "One of my men
+reported late last night that he had heard a splash in the river as
+though some one had jumped off the wharf, but he couldn't find out
+anything more. To tell the truth, he didn't look very hard--because we
+had our hands full with a robbery of Green's clothing store. Some one
+broke in there and--"
+
+"Yes--but what about Holden?" Simmons interrupted.
+
+"Guess you'll have to drag the river for him," answered the chief. "We
+found his coat and vest and raincoat on the dock this mornin', and on
+top of them was this note, addressed to you."
+
+The note, as Larry found an instant later, read:
+
+     I'd rather die in the river than go to jail. Tell your boss
+     that he can pay two pensions now--one for each of the Dave
+     Holdens.
+
+The signature, almost illegible, was that of "David Holden (Number
+two)."
+
+"No doubt that your man heard the splash when Holden went overboard last
+night?" inquired the operative.
+
+"Not the least in the world. He told me about it, but I didn't connect
+it with the man you were after, and, besides, I was too busy right then
+to give it much thought."
+
+"Any chance of recovering the body?"
+
+"Mighty little at this time of the year. The current's good and strong
+an' the chances are that he won't turn up this side of the Mississippi,
+if then. It was only by accident that we found his cap. It had lodged
+under the dock and we fished it out less 'n half an hour ago--" and the
+chief pointed to a water-soaked piece of cloth which Simmons recognized
+as the one which Holden had been wearing the evening before.
+
+"Well, I don't suppose there's anything more that we can do," admitted
+Larry. "I'd like to have the river dragged as much as possible, though I
+agree with you that the chances for recovering the body are very slim.
+Will you look after that?"
+
+"Sure I will, and anything else you want done." The chief was nothing if
+not obliging--a fact which Simmons incorporated in his official report,
+which he filed a few days later, a report which stated that "David
+Holden, wanted on a charge of attempting to obtain money under false
+pretenses, had committed suicide by drowning rather than submit to
+arrest."
+
+     The body has not been recovered [the report admitted], but
+     this is not to be considered unusual at this time of the year
+     when the current is very strong. The note left by the
+     fugitive is attached.
+
+Back from Washington came the wire:
+
+     Better luck next time. Anyhow, Holden won't bother us again.
+
+If this were a moving picture [Quinn continued, after a pause], there
+would be a subtitle here announcing the fact that seven years are
+supposed to elapse. There also probably would be a highly decorated
+explanatory title informing the audience that "Uncle Sam Never Forgets
+Nor Forgives"--a fact that is so perfectly true that it's a marvel that
+people persist in trying to beat the government. Then the scene of the
+film would shift to Seattle, Washington.
+
+They would have to cut back a little to make it clear that Larry Simmons
+had, in the meantime, left the Pension Bureau and entered the employment
+of the Post-office Department, being desirous of a little more
+excitement and a few more thrills than his former job afforded. But he
+was still working for Uncle Sam, and his memory--like that of his
+employer--was long and tenacious.
+
+One of the minor cases which had been bothering the department for some
+time past was that of a ring of fortune-tellers who, securing
+information in devious ways, would pretend that it had come to them from
+the spirit world and use it for purposes which closely approximated
+blackmail. Simmons, being in San Francisco at the time, was ordered to
+proceed to Seattle and look into the matter.
+
+Posing as a gentleman of leisure with plenty of money and but little
+care as to the way in which he spent it, it wasn't long before he was
+steered into what appeared to be the very center of the ring--the
+residence of a Madame Ahara, who professed to be able to read the stars,
+commune with spirits, and otherwise obtain information of an occult
+type. There Larry went through all the usual stages--palmistry,
+spiritualism, and clairvoyance--and chuckled when he found, after his
+third visit, that his pocket had been picked of a letter purporting to
+contain the facts about an escapade in which he had been mixed up a few
+years ago. The letter, of course, was a plant placed there for the sole
+purpose of providing a lead for madame and her associates to follow. And
+they weren't long in taking the tip.
+
+The very next afternoon the government agent received a telephone call
+notifying him that madame had some news of great importance which she
+desired to impart--information which had come to her from the other
+world and in which she felt certain he would be interested.
+
+Larry asked if he might bring a friend with him, but the request--as he
+had expected--was promptly refused. The would-be blackmailers were too
+clever to allow first-hand evidence to be produced against them. They
+wished to deal only with principals or, as madame informed him over the
+phone, "the message was of such a nature that only he should hear it."
+
+"Very well," replied Simmons, "I'll be there at eleven this evening."
+
+It was not his purpose to force the issue at this time. In fact, he
+planned to submit to the first demand for money and trust to the
+confidence which this would inspire to render the blackmailers less
+cautious in the future. But something occurred which upset the entire
+scheme and, for a time at least, threatened disaster to the Post-office
+schemes.
+
+Thinking that it might be well to look the ground over before dark,
+Larry strolled out to Madame Ahara's about five o'clock in the afternoon
+and took up his position on the opposite side of the street, studying
+the house from every angle. While he was standing there a man came
+out--a man who was dressed in the height of fashion, but whose face was
+somehow vaguely familiar. The tightly waxed mustache and the iron-gray
+goatee seemed out of place, for Simmons felt that the last time he had
+seen the man he had been clean shaven.
+
+"Where was it?" he thought, as he kept the man in sight, though on the
+opposite side of the street. "New York? No. Washington? Hardly. Saint
+Louis? No, it was somewhere where he was wearing a cap--a cap that was
+water-stained and ... I've got it! In Saint Joseph! The man who
+committed suicide the night I went to arrest him for attempting to
+defraud the Pension Bureau! It's he, sure as shooting!"
+
+But just as Simmons started to cross the street the traffic cop raised
+his arm, and when the apparently interminable stream of machines had
+passed, the man with the mustache was nowhere to be seen. He had
+probably slipped into one of the near-by office buildings. But which?
+That was a question which worried Larry for a moment or two. Then he
+came to the conclusion that there was no sense in trying to find his man
+at this moment. The very fact that he was in Seattle was enough. The
+police could find him with little difficulty.
+
+But what had Holden been doing at the clairvoyant's? Had he fallen into
+the power of the ring or was it possible that he was one of the
+blackmailers himself?
+
+The more Larry thought about the matter, the more he came to the
+conclusion that here was an opportunity to kill two birds with a single
+stone--to drive home at least the entering wedge of the campaign against
+the clairvoyants and at the same time to land the man who had eluded him
+seven years before.
+
+The plan which he finally evolved was daring, but he realized that the
+element of time was essential. Holden must not be given another
+opportunity to slip through the net.
+
+That night when Larry kept his appointment at madame's he saw to it that
+a cordon of police was thrown around the entire block, with instructions
+to allow no one to leave until after a prearranged signal.
+
+"Don't prevent anyone from coming into the house," Simmons directed,
+"but see that not a soul gets away from it. Also, you might be on the
+lookout for trouble. The crowd's apt to get nasty and we can't afford to
+take chances with them."
+
+A tall dark-skinned man, attired in an Arabian burnoose and wearing a
+turban, answered the ring at the door, precisely as Larry
+anticipated--for the stage was always well set to impress visitors.
+Madame herself never appeared in the richly decorated room where the
+crystal-gazing seances were held, preferring to remain in the background
+and to allow a girl, who went by the name of Yvette, to handle visitors,
+the explanation being that "Madame receives the spirit messages and
+transmits them to Yvette, her assistant."
+
+Simmons therefore knew that, instead of dealing with an older and
+presumably more experienced woman, he would only have to handle a girl,
+and it was upon this that he placed his principal reliance.
+
+Everything went along strictly according to schedule. Yvette, seated on
+the opposite side of a large crystal ball in which she read strange
+messages from the other world--visions transmitted from the cellar by
+means of a cleverly constructed series of mirrors--told the operative
+everything that had been outlined in the letter taken from his pocket on
+the preceding night, adding additional touches founded on facts which
+Larry had been "careless" enough to let slip during his previous visits.
+Then she concluded with a very thinly veiled threat of blackmail if the
+visitor did not care to kick in with a certain sum of money.
+
+Larry listened to the whole palaver in silence, but his eyes were busy
+trying to pierce the dim light in which the room was shrouded. So far as
+he could see, the door through which he had entered formed the only
+means of getting into the room--but there were a number of rugs and
+draperies upon the walls, any one of which might easily mask a doorway.
+
+When the girl had finished, the operative leaned forward and hitched his
+chair around so that he could speak in a whisper.
+
+"If you know what's good for you," he cautioned, "don't move! I've got
+you covered, in the first place, and, secondly, there's a solid cordon
+of police around this house! Careful--not a sound! I'm not after you. I
+want the people who're behind you. Madame and her associates. This
+blackmailing game has gone about far enough, but I'll see that you get
+off with a suspended sentence if you do as I tell you. If not--" and the
+very abruptness with which he stopped made the threat all the more
+convincing.
+
+"What--what do you want me to do?" stammered the girl, her voice barely
+audible.
+
+"Turn state's evidence and tip me off to everyone who's in on this
+thing," was Larry's reply, couched in the lowest of tones. "There's not
+a chance of escape for any of you, so you might as well do it and get it
+over with. Besides that, I want to know where I can find a man with a
+waxed mustache and iron-gray goatee who left this house at ten minutes
+past five this afternoon."
+
+"Madame!" exclaimed the girl. "Davidson!"
+
+"Yes--Madame and Davidson, if that's the name he goes by now. It was
+Holden the last time I saw him."
+
+"He"--and the girl's voice was a mere breath--"he is madame!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes, there is no Madame Ahara. Davidson runs the whole thing. He is--"
+
+But at that moment one of the rugs on the wall which Larry was facing
+swung outward and a man sprang into the room, a man whose face was
+purple with rage and who leaped sidewise as he saw Larry's hand snap an
+automatic into view above the pedestal on which the crystal ball
+reposed. In a flash Simmons recognized two things--his danger and the
+fact that the man who had just entered was Holden, alias Davidson,
+blackmailer and potential thief.
+
+Before the government agent had time to aim the head of the clairvoyant
+ring fired. But his bullet, instead of striking Larry, shattered the
+crystal ball into fragments and the room was plunged into total
+darkness. In spite of the fact that he knew the shot would bring speedy
+relief from outside the house, Simmons determined to capture his man
+single-handed and alive. Half-leaping, half-falling from the chair in
+which he had been seated, the operative sprang forward in an attempt to
+nail his man while the latter was still dazed by the darkness. But his
+foot, catching in one of the thick rugs which carpeted the floor,
+tripped him and he fell--a bullet from the other's revolver plowing
+through the fleshy part of his arm.
+
+The flash, however, showed him the position of his adversary, and it was
+the work of only a moment to slip forward and seize the blackmailer
+around the waist, his right hand gripping the man's wrist and forcing it
+upward so that he was powerless to use his revolver. For a full minute
+they wrestled in the inky darkness, oblivious to the fact that the sound
+of blows on the outer door indicated the arrival of reinforcements.
+
+Then suddenly Larry let go of the blackmailer's arm and, whirling him
+rapidly around, secured a half nelson that threatened to dislocate his
+neck.
+
+"Drop it!" he snarled. "Drop that gun before I wring your head off!" and
+the muffled thud as the revolver struck the floor was the signal that
+Holden had surrendered. A moment later the light in the center of the
+room was snapped on and the police sergeant inquired if Larry needed any
+assistance.
+
+"No," replied Simmons, grimly, "but you might lend me a pair of
+bracelets. This bird got away from me once, some seven years ago, and
+I'm not taking any more chances!"
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE POISON-PEN PUZZLE
+
+
+Beside the bookcase in the room which Bill Quinn likes to dignify by the
+name of "library"--though it's only a den, ornamented with relics of
+scores of cases in which members of the different government detective
+services have figured--hangs a frame containing four letters, each in a
+different handwriting.
+
+Beyond the fact that these letters obviously refer to some secret in the
+lives of the persons to whom they are addressed, there is little about
+them that is out of the ordinary. A close observer, however, would note
+that in none of the four is the secret openly stated. It is only hinted
+at, suggested, but by that very fact it becomes more mysterious and
+alarming.
+
+It was upon this that I commented one evening as I sat, discussing
+things in general, with Quinn.
+
+"Yes," he agreed, "the writer of those letters was certainly a genius.
+As an author or as an advertising writer or in almost any other
+profession where a mastery of words and the ability to leave much to the
+imagination is a distinct asset, they would have made a big success."
+
+"They?" I inquired. "Did more than one person write the letters?"
+
+"Don't look like the writing of the same person, do they?" countered
+Quinn. "Besides, that was one of the many phases of the matter which
+puzzled Elmer Allison, and raised the case above the dead level of
+ordinary blackmailing schemes."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Allison [Quinn went on, settling comfortably back in his big armchair]
+was, as you probably remember, one of the star men of the Postal
+Inspection Service, the chap who solved the mystery of the lost one
+hundred thousand dollars in Columbus. In fact, he had barely cleared up
+the tangle connected with the letters when assigned to look into the
+affair of the missing money, with what results you already know.
+
+The poison-pen puzzle, as it came to be known in the department, first
+bobbed up some six months before Allison tackled it. At least, that was
+when it came to the attention of the Postal Inspection Service. It's
+more than likely that the letters had been arriving for some time
+previous to that, because one of the beauties of any blackmailing
+scheme--such as this one appeared to be--is that 90 per cent of the
+victims fear to bring the matter to the attention of the law. They much
+prefer to suffer in silence, kicking in with the amounts demanded, than
+to risk the exposure of their family skeletons by appealing to the
+proper authorities.
+
+A man by the name of Tyson, who lived in Madison, Wisconsin, was the
+first to complain. He informed the postmaster in his city that his wife
+had received two letters, apparently in a feminine handwriting, which he
+considered to be very thinly veiled attempts at blackmailing.
+
+Neither of the letters was long. Just a sentence or two. But their
+ingenuity lay in what they suggested rather than in their actual
+threats.
+
+The first one read:
+
+     Does your husband know the details of that trip to Fond du
+     Lac? He might be interested in what Hastings has to tell him.
+
+The second, which arrived some ten days later, announced:
+
+     The photograph of the register of a certain hotel in Fond du
+     Lac for June 8 might be of interest to your husband--who can
+     tell?
+
+That was all there was to them, but it doesn't take an expert in plot
+building to think of a dozen stories that could lie back of that
+supposedly clandestine trip on the eighth of June.
+
+Tyson didn't go into particulars at the time. He contented himself with
+turning the letters over to the department, with the request that the
+matter be looked into at once. Said that his wife had handed them to him
+and that he knew nothing more about the matter.
+
+All that the postal authorities could do at the time was to instruct him
+to bring in any subsequent communications. But, as the letters stopped
+suddenly and Tyson absolutely refused to state whether he knew of anyone
+who might be interested in causing trouble between his wife and himself,
+there was nothing further to be done. Tracing a single letter, or even
+two of them, is like looking for a certain star on a clear night--you've
+got to know where to look before you have a chance of finding it--and
+the postmark on the letters wasn't of the least assistance.
+
+Some three or four weeks later a similar case cropped up. This time it
+was a woman who brought in the letters--a woman who was red-eyed from
+lack of sleep and worry. Again the communications referred to a definite
+escapade, but still they made no open demand for money.
+
+By the time the third case cropped up the postal authorities in Madison
+were appealing to Washington for assistance. Before Bolton and Clarke,
+the two inspectors originally assigned to the case, could reach the
+Wisconsin capital another set of the mysterious communications had been
+received and called to the attention of the department.
+
+During the three months which followed no less than six complaints were
+filed, all of them alleging the receipt of veiled threats, and neither
+the local authorities nor the men from Washington could find a single
+nail on which to hang a theory. Finally affairs reached such a stage
+that the chief sent for Allison, who had already made something of a
+name for himself, and told him to get on the job.
+
+"Better make the first train for Madison," were the directions which
+Elmer received. "So far as we can tell, this appears to be the scheme of
+some crazy woman, intent upon causing domestic disturbances, rather than
+a well-laid blackmailing plot. There's no report of any actual demand
+for money. Just threats or suggestions of revelations which would cause
+family dissension. I don't have to tell you that it's wise to keep the
+whole business away from the papers as long as you can. They'll get next
+to it some time, of course, but if we can keep it quiet until we've
+landed the author of the notes it'll be a whole lot better for the
+reputation of the department.
+
+"Bolton and Clarke are in Madison now, but their reports are far from
+satisfactory, so you better do a little investigating of your own.
+You'll have full authority to handle the case any way that you see fit.
+All we ask is action--before somebody stirs up a real row about the
+inefficiency of the Service and all that rot."
+
+Elmer smiled grimly, knowing the difficulties under which the department
+worked, difficulties which make it hard for any bureau to obtain the
+full facts in a case without being pestered by politicians and harried
+by local interests which are far from friendly. For this reason you
+seldom know that Uncle Sam is conducting an investigation until the
+whole thing is over and done with and the results are ready to be
+presented to the grand jury. Premature publicity has ruined many cases
+and prevented many a detective from landing the men he's after, which
+was the reason that Allison slipped into town on rubber heels, and his
+appearance at the office of the postmaster was the first indication that
+official had of his arrival.
+
+"Mr. Gordon," said Allison, after they had completed the usual
+preliminaries connected with credentials and so forth, "I want to tackle
+this case just as if I were the first man who had been called in. I
+understand that comparatively little progress has been made--"
+
+"'Comparatively little' is good," chuckled the postmaster.
+
+"And I don't wish to be hindered by any erroneous theories which may
+have been built up. So if you don't mind we'll run over the whole thing
+from the beginning."
+
+"Well," replied the postmaster, "you know about the Tyson letters and--"
+
+"I don't know about a thing," Elmer cut in. "Or at least we'll work on
+the assumption that I don't. Then I'll be sure not to miss any points
+and at the same time I'll get a fresh outline of the entire situation."
+
+Some two hours later Postmaster Gordon finished his resume of the
+various cases which were puzzling the police and the postal officials,
+for a number of the best men on the police force had been quietly at
+work trying to trace the poison-pen letters.
+
+"Are these all the letters that have been received?" Allison inquired,
+indicating some thirty communications which lay before him on the desk.
+
+"All that have been called to the attention of this office. Of course,
+there's no telling how many more have been written, about which no
+complaint has been made. Knowing human nature, I should say that at
+least three times that number have been received and possibly paid for.
+But the recipients didn't report the matter--for reasons best known to
+themselves. As a matter of fact--But you're not interested in gossip."
+
+"I most certainly am!" declared Allison. "When you're handling a matter
+of this kind, where back-stairs intrigue and servants-hall talk is
+likely to play a large part, gossip forms a most important factor. What
+does Dame Rumor say in this case?"
+
+"So far as these letters are concerned, nothing at all. Certain
+influences, which it's hardly necessary to explain in detail, have kept
+this affair out of the papers--but gossip has it that at least three
+divorces within as many months have been caused by the receipt of
+anonymous letters, and that there are a number of other homes which are
+on the verge of being broken up for a similar reason."
+
+"That would appear to bear out your contention that other people have
+received letters like these, but preferred to take private action upon
+them. Also that, if blackmail were attempted, it sometimes
+failed--otherwise the matter wouldn't have gotten as far as the divorce
+court."
+
+Then, after a careful study of several of the sample letters on the
+desk, Allison continued, "I suppose you have noted the fact that no two
+of these appear to have been written by the same person?"
+
+"Yes, but that is a point upon which handwriting experts fail to agree.
+Some of them claim that each was written by a different person. Others
+maintain that one woman was responsible for all of them, and a third
+school holds that either two or three people wrote them. What're you
+going to do when experts disagree?"
+
+"Don't worry about any of 'em," retorted Allison. "If we're successful
+at all we won't have much trouble in proving our case without the
+assistance of a bunch of so-called experts who only gum up the testimony
+with long words that a jury can't understand. Where are the envelopes in
+which these letters were mailed?"
+
+"Most of the people who brought them in failed to keep the envelopes.
+But we did manage to dig up a few. Here they are," and the postmaster
+tossed over a packet of about half a dozen, of various shapes and sizes.
+
+"Hum!" mused the postal operative, "all comparatively inexpensive
+stationery. Might have been bought at nearly any corner drug store. Any
+clue in the postmarks?"
+
+"Not the slightest. As you will note, they were mailed either at the
+central post office or at the railroad station--places so public that
+it's impossible to keep a strict watch for the person who mailed 'em. In
+one case--that of the Osgoods--we cautioned the wife to say nothing
+whatever about the matter, and then ordered every clerk in the post
+office to look out for letters in that handwriting which might be
+slipped through the slot. In fact, we closed all the slots save one and
+placed a man on guard inside night and day."
+
+"Well, what happened?" inquired Allison, a trifle impatiently, as the
+postmaster paused.
+
+"The joke was on us. Some two days later a letter which looked
+suspiciously like these was mailed. Our man caught it in time to dart
+outside and nail the person who posted it. Fortunately we discovered
+that she was Mrs. Osgood's sister-in-law and that the letter was a
+perfectly innocent one."
+
+"No chance of her being mixed up in the affair?"
+
+"No. Her husband is a prominent lawyer here, and, besides, we've watched
+every move she's made since that time. She's one of the few people in
+town that we're certain of."
+
+"Yet, you say her handwriting was similar to that which appears on these
+letters?"
+
+"Yes, that's one of the many puzzling phases of the whole matter. Every
+single letter is written in a hand which closely resembles that of a
+relative of the person to whom it is addressed! So much so, in fact,
+that at least four of the complainants have insisted upon the arrest of
+these relatives, and have been distinctly displeased at our refusal to
+place them in jail merely because their handwriting is similar to that
+of a blackmailer."
+
+"Why do you say blackmailer? Do you know of any demand for money which
+has been made?"
+
+"Not directly--but what other purpose could a person have than to
+extract money? They'd hardly run the risk of going to the pen in order
+to gratify a whim for causing trouble."
+
+"How about the Tysons and the Osgoods and the other people who brought
+these letters in--didn't they receive subsequent demands for money?"
+
+"They received nothing--not another single letter of any kind."
+
+"You mean that the simple fact of making a report to your office
+appeared to stop the receipt of the threats."
+
+"Precisely. Now that you put it that way, it does look odd. But that's
+what happened."
+
+Allison whistled. This was the first ray of light that had penetrated a
+very dark and mysterious case, and, with its aid, he felt that he might,
+after all, be successful.
+
+Contenting himself with a few more questions, including the names of
+the couples whom gossip stated had been separated through the receipt of
+anonymous communications, Allison bundled the letters together and
+slipped them into his pocket.
+
+"It's quite possible," he stated, as he opened the door leading out of
+the postmaster's private office, "that you won't hear anything more from
+me for some time. I hardly think it would be wise to report here too
+often, or that if you happen to run into me on the street that you would
+register recognition. I won't be using the name of Allison, anyhow, but
+that of Gregg--Alvin Gregg--who has made a fortune in the operation of
+chain stores and is looking over the field with a view to establishing
+connections here. Gregg, by the way, is stopping at the Majestic Hotel,
+if you care to reach him," and with that he was gone.
+
+Allison's first move after establishing his identity at the hotel, was
+to send a wire to a certain Alice Norcross in Chicago--a wire which
+informed her that "My sister, Mrs. Mabel Kennedy, requests your presence
+in Madison, Wisconsin. Urgent and immediate." The signature was "Alvin
+Gregg, E. A.," and to an inquisitive telegraph operator who inquired the
+meaning of the initials, Allison replied: "Electrical Assistant, of
+course," and walked away before the matter could be further discussed.
+
+The next evening Mrs. Mabel Kennedy registered at the Majestic Hotel,
+and went up to the room which Mr. Gregg had reserved for her--the one
+next to his.
+
+"It's all right, Alice," he informed her a few moments later, after a
+careful survey had satisfied him that the hall was clear of prying ears.
+"I told them all about you--that you were my sister 'n' everything. So
+it's quite respectable."
+
+"Mrs. Kennedy," or Alice Norcross, as she was known to the members of
+the Postal Service whom she had assisted on more than one occasion when
+the services of a woman with brains were demanded, merely smiled and
+continued to fix her hair before the mirror.
+
+"I'm not worrying about that," she replied. "You boys can always be
+trusted to arrange the details--but traveling always did play the
+dickens with my hair! What's the idea, anyhow? Why am I Mrs. Mabel
+Kennedy, and what's she supposed to do?"
+
+In a few words Allison outlined what he was up against--evidently the
+operation of a very skillful gang of blackmailers who were not only
+perfectly sure of their facts, but who didn't run any risks until their
+victims were too thoroughly cowed to offer any resistance.
+
+"The only weak spot in the whole plan," concluded the operative, "is
+that the letters invariably cease when the prospective victims lay their
+case before the postmaster."
+
+"You mean that you think he's implicated?"
+
+"No--but some one in his office is!" snapped Allison. "Else how would
+they know when to lay off? That's the only lead we have, and I don't
+want to work from it, but up to it. Do you know anyone who's socially
+prominent in Madison?"
+
+"Not a soul, but it's no trick to get letters of introduction--even for
+Mrs. Mabel Kennedy."
+
+"Fine! Go to it! The minute you get 'em start a social campaign here.
+Stage several luncheons, bridge parties, and the like. Be sure to create
+the impression of a woman of means--and if you can drop a few hints
+about your none too spotless past, so much the better."
+
+"You want to draw their fire, eh?"
+
+"Precisely. It's unfortunate that we can't rig up a husband for
+you--that would make things easier, but when it's known that I, Alvin
+Gregg, am your brother, I think it's more than likely that they'll risk
+a couple of shots."
+
+It was about a month later that Mrs. Kennedy called up her brother at
+the Hotel Majestic and asked him to come over to her apartment at once.
+
+"Something stirring?" inquired Allison as he entered the drawing-room of
+the suite which his assistant had rented in order to bolster up her
+social campaign.
+
+"The first nibble," replied the girl, holding out a sheet of
+violet-tinted paper, on which appeared the words:
+
+     Of course your brother and your friends know all about the
+     night you spent alone with a certain man in a cabin in the
+     Sierras?
+
+"Great Scott!" ejaculated Allison. "Do you mean to say it worked?"
+
+"Like clockwork," was the girl's reply. "Acting on your instructions, I
+made a special play for Snaith, the postmaster's confidential secretary
+and general assistant. I invited him to several of my parties and paid
+particular attention to what I said when he was around. The first night
+I got off some clever little remark about conventions--laughing at the
+fact that it was all right for a woman to spend a day with a man, but
+hardly respectable for her to spend the evening. The next time he was
+there--and he was the only one in the party who had been present on the
+previous occasion--I turned the conversation to snowstorms and admitted
+that I had once been trapped in a storm in the Sierra Nevadas and had
+been forced to spend the night in a cabin. But I didn't say anything
+then about any companion. The third evening--when an entirely different
+crowd, with the exception of Snaith, was present--some one brought up
+the subject of what constitutes a gentleman, and my contribution was a
+speech to the effect that 'one never knows what a man is until he is
+placed in a position where his brute instincts would naturally come to
+the front.'
+
+"Not a single one of those remarks was incriminating or even
+suspicious--but it didn't take a master mind to add them together and
+make this note! Snaith was the only man who could add them, because he
+was the only one who was present when they were all made!"
+
+"Fine work!" applauded Allison. "But there's one point you've
+overlooked. This letter, unlike the rest of its kind, is postmarked
+Kansas City, while Snaith was here day before yesterday when this was
+mailed. I know, because Clarke's been camping on his trail for the past
+three weeks."
+
+"Then that means--"
+
+"That Snaith is only one of the gang--the stool-pigeon--or, in this
+case, the lounge-lizard--who collects the information and passes it on
+to his chief? Exactly. Now, having Mr. Snaith where I want him and
+knowing pretty well how to deal with his breed, I think the rest will be
+easy. I knew that somebody in the postmaster's office must be mixed up
+in the affair and your very astute friend was the most likely prospect.
+Congratulations on landing him so neatly!"
+
+"Thanks," said the girl, "but what next?"
+
+"For you, not a thing. You've handled your part to perfection. The rest
+is likely to entail a considerable amount of strong-arm work, and I'd
+rather not have you around. Might cramp my style."
+
+That night--or, rather, about three o'clock on the following
+morning--Sylvester Snaith, confidential secretary to the postmaster of
+Madison, was awakened by the sound of some one moving stealthily about
+the bedroom of his bachelor apartment. Before he could utter a sound
+the beam of light from an electric torch blazed in his eyes and a curt
+voice from the darkness ordered him to put up his hands. Then:
+
+"What do you know about the anonymous letters which have been sent to a
+number of persons in this city?" demanded the voice.
+
+"Not--not a thing," stammered the clerk, trying to collect his badly
+scattered senses.
+
+"That's a lie! We know that you supplied the information upon which
+those letters were based! Now come through with the whole dope or, by
+hell I'll--" the blue-steel muzzle of an automatic which was visible
+just outside the path of light from the torch completed the threat.
+Snaith, thoroughly cowed, "came through"--told more than even Allison
+had hoped for when he had planned the night raid on a man whom he had
+sized up as a physical coward.
+
+Less than an hour after the secretary had finished, Elmer was on his way
+to Kansas City, armed with information which he proceeded to lay before
+the chief of police.
+
+"'Spencerian Peter,' eh?" grunted the chief. "Sure, I know where to lay
+my hands on him--been watching him more or less ever since he got out of
+Leavenworth a couple of years back. But I never connected him with this
+case."
+
+"What do you mean--this case?" demanded Allison. "Did you know anything
+about the poison-pen letters in Madison?"
+
+"Madison? No--but I know about the ones that have set certain people
+here by the ears for the past month. I thought that was what you wanted
+him for. Evidently the game isn't new."
+
+"Far from it," Elmer replied. "I don't know how much he cleaned up in
+Wisconsin, but I'll bet he got away with a nice pile. Had a social pet
+there, who happened to be the postmaster's right-hand man, collect the
+scandal for him and then he'd fix up the letters--faking some relative's
+handwriting with that infernal skill of his. Then his Man Friday would
+tip him off when they made a holler to headquarters and he'd look for
+other suckers rather than run the risk of getting the department on his
+trail by playing the same fish too long. That's what finally gave him
+away--that and the fact that his assistant was bluffed by an electric
+torch and an empty gun."
+
+"Well, I'll be hanged," muttered the chief. "You might have been
+explaining the situation here--except that we don't know who his society
+informant is. I think we better drop in for a call on 'Spencerian' this
+evening."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The call was made on scheduled time," Quinn concluded, "but it was
+hardly of a social nature. You wouldn't expect a post-office operative,
+a chief of police, and half a dozen cops to stage a pink tea. Their
+methods are inclined to be a trifle more abrupt--though Pete, as it
+happened, didn't attempt to pull any rough stuff. He dropped his gun the
+moment he saw how many guests were present, and it wasn't very long
+before they presented him with a formal invitation to resume his none
+too comfortable but extremely exclusive apartment in Leavenworth.
+Snaith, being only an accomplice, got off with two years. The man who
+wrote the letters and who was the principal beneficiary of the money
+which they produced, drew ten."
+
+"And who got the credit for solving the puzzle?" I inquired. "Allison or
+the Norcross girl?"
+
+"Allison," replied Quinn. "Alice Norcross only worked on condition that
+her connection with the Service be kept quite as much of a secret as
+the fact that her real name was Mrs. Elmer Allison."
+
+"What? She was Allison's wife?" I demanded.
+
+"Quite so," said the former operative. "If you don't believe me, there's
+a piece of her wedding dress draped over that picture up there," and he
+pointed to a strip of white silk that hung over one of the framed
+photographs on the wall.
+
+"But I thought you said--"
+
+"That that was part of the famous thirty thousand yards which was nailed
+just after it had been smuggled across the Canadian border? I did. But
+Allison got hold of a piece of it and had it made up into a dress for
+Alice. So that bit up there has a double story. You know one of them.
+Remind me to tell you the other sometime."
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THIRTY THOUSAND YARDS OF SILK
+
+
+"I'd sure like to lead the life of one of those fictional detective
+heroes," muttered Bill Quinn, formerly of the United States Secret
+Service, as he tossed aside the latest volume of crime stories that had
+come to his attention. "Nothing to do but trail murderers and find the
+person who lifted the diamond necklace and stuff of that kind. They
+never have a case that isn't interesting or, for that matter, one in
+which they aren't successful. Must be a great life!"
+
+"But aren't the detective stories of real life interesting and
+oftentimes exciting?" I inquired, adding that those which Quinn had
+already told me indicated that the career of a government operative was
+far from being deadly monotonous.
+
+"Some of them are," he admitted, "but many of them drag along for months
+or even years, sometimes petering out for pure lack of evidence. Those,
+of course, are the cases you never hear of--the ones where Uncle Sam's
+men fall down on the job. Oh yes, they're fallible, all right. They
+can't solve every case--any more than a doctor can save the life of
+every patient he attends. But their percentage, though high, doesn't
+approach the success of your Sherlock Holmeses and your Thinking
+Machines, your Gryces and Sweetwaters and Lecoqs."
+
+"How is it, then, that every story you've told dealt with the success
+of a government agent--never with his failure?"
+
+Quinn smiled reminiscently for a moment.
+
+Then, "What do doctors do with their mistakes?" he asked. "They bury
+'em. And that's what any real detective will do--try to forget, except
+for hoping that some day he'll run up against the man who tricked him.
+Again, most of the yarns I've told you revolved around some of the
+relics of this room"--waving his hand to indicate the walls of his
+library--"and these are all mementoes of successful cases. There's no
+use in keeping the other kind. Failures are too common and brains too
+scarce. That bit of silk up there--"
+
+"Oh yes," I interrupted, "the one that formed part of Alice Norcross's
+wedding dress."
+
+"And figured in one of the most sensational plots to defraud the
+government that was ever uncovered," added Quinn. "If Ezra Marks hadn't
+located that shipment I wouldn't have had that piece of silk and there
+wouldn't be any story to tell. So you see, it's really a circle, after
+all."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Marks [Quinn went on] was one of the few men connected with any branch
+of the government organizations who really lived up to the press-agent
+notices of the detectives you read about. In the first place, he looked
+like he might have stepped out of a book--big and long-legged and lanky.
+A typical Yankee, with all of the New-Englander's shrewdness and common
+sense. If you turned Ezra loose on a case you could be sure that he
+wouldn't sit down and try to work it out by deduction. Neither would he
+plunge in and attempt by sheer bravado and gun play to put the thing
+over. He'd mix the two methods and, more often than not, come back with
+the answer.
+
+Then, too, Marks had the very happy faculty of drawing assignments that
+turned out to be interesting. Maybe it was luck, but more than likely it
+was because he followed plans that made 'em so--preferring to wait until
+he had all the strings to a case and then stage a big round-up of the
+people implicated. You remember the case of the Englishman who smuggled
+uncut diamonds in the bowl of his pipe and the one you wrote under the
+title of "Wah Lee and the Flower of Heaven"? Well, those were typical of
+Ezra's methods--the first was almost entirely analytical, the second
+mainly gun play plus a painstaking survey of the field he had to cover.
+
+But when Marks was notified that it was up to him to find out who was
+running big shipments of valuable silks across the Canadian border,
+without the formality of visiting the customhouse and making the
+customary payments, he found it advisable to combine the two courses.
+
+It was through a wholesale dealer in silks in Seattle, Washington, that
+the Customs Service first learned of the arrival of a considerable
+quantity of this valuable merchandise, offered through certain
+underground channels at a price which clearly labeled it as smuggled.
+Possibly the dealer was peeved because he didn't learn of the shipment
+in time to secure any of it. But his reasons for calling the affair to
+the attention of the Treasury Department don't really matter. The main
+idea was that the silk was there, that it hadn't paid duty, and that
+some one ought to find out how it happened.
+
+When a second and then a third shipment was reported, Marks was notified
+by wire to get to Seattle as fast as he could, and there to confer with
+the Collector of the Port.
+
+It wasn't until after he had arrived that Ezra knew what the trouble
+was, for the story of the smuggled silk hadn't penetrated as far south
+as San Francisco, where he had been engaged in trying to find a cargo of
+smuggled coolies.
+
+"Here's a sample of the silk," announced the Collector of the Port at
+Seattle, producing a piece of very heavy material, evidently of foreign
+manufacture. "Beyond the fact that we've spotted three of the shipments
+and know where to lay our hands on them if wanted, I've got to admit
+that we don't know a thing about the case. The department, of course,
+doesn't want us to trace the silk from this end. The minute you do that
+you lay yourself open to all sorts of legal tangles and delays--to say
+nothing of giving the other side plenty of time to frame up a case that
+would sound mighty good in court. Besides, I haven't enough men to
+handle the job in the short space of time necessary. So you'll have to
+dig into it and find out who got the stuff in and how. Then we'll attend
+to the fences who've been handling it here."
+
+"The old game of passing the buck," thought Ezra, as he fingered the
+sample of silk meditatively. "I'll do the work and they'll get the
+glory. Oh, well--"
+
+"Any idea of where the shipments came from?" he inquired.
+
+"There's no doubt but that it's of Japanese manufacture, which, of
+course, would appear to point to a shipping conspiracy of some nature.
+But I hardly think that's true here. Already eighteen bolts of silk have
+been reported in Seattle, and, as you know, that's a pretty good sized
+consignment. You couldn't stuff 'em into a pill box or carry 'em inside
+a walking stick, like you could diamonds. Whoever's handling this job is
+doing it across the border, rather than via the shipping route."
+
+"No chance of a slip-up in your information, is there, Chief?" Ezra
+inquired, anxiously. "I'd hate to start combing the border and then
+find that the stuff was being slipped in through the port."
+
+"No," and the Collector of Customs was positive in his reply. "I'm not
+taking a chance on that tip. I know what I'm talking about. My men have
+been watching the shipping like hawks. Ever since that consignment of
+antique ivory got through last year we've gone over every vessel with a
+microscope, probing the mattresses and even pawing around in the coal
+bins. I'm positive that there isn't a place big enough to conceal a yard
+of silk that the boys haven't looked into--to say nothing of eighteen
+bolts.
+
+"Besides," added the Collector, "the arrival of the silk hasn't
+coincided with the arrival of any of the ships from Japan--not by any
+stretch of the imagination."
+
+"All right, I'll take up the trail northward then," replied Marks.
+"Don't be surprised if you fail to hear from me for a couple of months
+or more. If Washington inquires, tell them that I'm up on the border
+somewhere and let it go at that."
+
+"Going to take anybody with you?"
+
+"Not a soul, except maybe a guide that I'll pick up when I need him. If
+there is a concerted movement to ship silk across the line--and it
+appears that there is--the more men you have working with you the less
+chance there is for success. Border runners are like moonshiners,
+they're not afraid of one man, but if they see a posse they run for
+cover and keep out of sight until the storm blows over. And there isn't
+one chance in a thousand of finding 'em meanwhile. You've got to play
+them, just like you would a fish, so the next time you hear from me you
+will know that I've either landed my sharks or that they've slipped off
+the hook!"
+
+It was about a month later that the little town of Northport, up in the
+extreme northeastern corner of Washington, awoke to find a stranger in
+its midst. Strangers were something of a novelty in Northport, and this
+one--a man named Marks, who stated that he was "prospectin' for some
+good lumber"--caused quite a bit of talk for a day or two. Then the town
+gossips discovered that he was not working in the interest of a large
+company, as had been rumored, but solely on his own hook, so they left
+him severely alone. Besides, it was the height of the logging season and
+there was too much work to be done along the Columbia River to worry
+about strangers.
+
+Marks hadn't taken this into consideration when he neared the eastern
+part of the state, but he was just as well pleased. If logs and logging
+served to center the attention of the natives elsewhere, so much the
+better. It would give him greater opportunity for observation and
+possibly the chance to pick up some information. Up to this time his
+trip along the border had been singularly uneventful and lacking in
+results. In fact, it was practically a toss-up with him whether he would
+continue on into Idaho and Montana, on the hope that he would find
+something there, or go back to Seattle and start fresh.
+
+However, he figured that it wouldn't do any harm to spend a week or two
+in the neighborhood of the Columbia--and, as events turned out, it was a
+very wise move.
+
+Partly out of curiosity and partly because it was in keeping with his
+self-assumed character of lumber prospector, Marks made a point of
+joining the gangs of men who worked all day and sometimes long into the
+night keeping the river clear of log jams and otherwise assisting in the
+movement of timber downstream. Like everyone who views these operations
+for the first time, he marveled at the dexterity of the loggers who
+perched upon the treacherous slippery trunks with as little thought for
+danger as if they had been crossing a country road. But their years of
+familiarity with the current and the logs themselves had given them a
+sense of balance which appeared to inure them to peril.
+
+Nor was this ability to ride logs confined wholly to the men. Some of
+the girls from the near-by country often worked in with the men,
+handling the lighter jobs and attending to details which did not call
+for the possession of a great amount of strength.
+
+One of these, Marks noted, was particularly proficient in her work.
+Apparently there wasn't a man in Northport who could give her points in
+log riding, and the very fact that she was small and wiry provided her
+with a distinct advantage over men who were twice her weight. Apart from
+her grace and beauty, there was something extremely appealing about the
+girl, and Ezra found himself watching her time after time as she almost
+danced across the swirling, bark-covered trunks--hardly seeming to touch
+them as she moved.
+
+The girl was by no means oblivious of the stranger's interest in her
+ability to handle at least a part of the men's work. She caught his eye
+the very first day he came down to the river, and after that, whenever
+she noted that he was present she seemed to take a new delight in
+skipping lightly from log to log, lingering on each just long enough to
+cause it to spin dangerously and then leaping to the next.
+
+But one afternoon she tried the trick once too often. Either she
+miscalculated her distance or a sudden swirl of the current carried the
+log for which she was aiming out of her path, for her foot just touched
+it, slipped and, before she could recover her balance, she was in the
+water--surrounded by logs that threatened to crush the life out of her
+at any moment.
+
+Startled by her cry for help, three of the lumbermen started toward
+her--but the river, like a thing alive, appeared to thwart their efforts
+by opening up a rift in the jam on either side, leaving a gap too wide
+to be leaped, and a current too strong to be risked by men who were
+hampered by their heavy hobnailed shoes.
+
+Marks, who had been watching the girl, had his coat off almost as soon
+as she hit the water. An instant later he had discarded his shoes and
+had plunged in, breasting the river with long overhand strokes that
+carried him forward at an almost unbelievable speed. Before the men on
+the logs knew what was happening, the operative was beside the girl,
+using one hand to keep her head above water, and the other to fend off
+the logs which were closing in from every side.
+
+"Quick!" he called. "A rope! A--" but the trunk of a tree, striking his
+head a glancing blow, cut short his cry and forced him to devote every
+atom of his strength to remaining afloat until assistance arrived. After
+an interval which appeared to be measured in hours, rather than seconds,
+a rope splashed within reach and the pair were hauled to safety.
+
+The girl, apparently unhurt by her drenching, shook herself like a wet
+spaniel and then turned to where Marks was seated, trying to recover his
+breath.
+
+"Thanks," she said, extending her hand. "I don't know who you are,
+stranger, but you're a man!"
+
+"It wasn't anything to make a fuss about," returned Ezra, rising and
+turning suspiciously red around the ears, for it was the first time that
+a girl had spoken to him in that way for more years than he cared to
+remember. Then, with the Vermont drawl that always came to the surface
+when he was excited or embarrassed, he added: "It was worth gettin' wet
+to have you speak like that."
+
+This time it was the girl who flushed, and, with a palpable effort to
+cover her confusion, she turned away, stopping to call back over her
+shoulder, "If you'll come up to dad's place to-night I'll see that
+you're properly thanked."
+
+"Dad's place?" repeated Ezra to one of the men near by. "Where's that?"
+
+"She means her stepfather's house up the river," replied the lumberman.
+"You can't miss it. Just this side the border. Ask anybody where Old Man
+Petersen lives."
+
+Though the directions were rather vague, Marks started "up the river"
+shortly before sunset, and found but little difficulty in locating the
+big house--half bungalow and half cabin--where Petersen and his
+stepdaughter resided, in company with half a dozen foremen of lumber
+gangs, and an Indian woman who had acted as nurse and chaperon and cook
+and general servant ever since the death of the girl's mother a number
+of years before.
+
+While he was still stumbling along, trying to pierce the gloom which
+settled almost instantly after sunset, Marks was startled to see a white
+figure rise suddenly before him and to hear a feminine voice remark, "I
+wondered if you'd come."
+
+"Didn't you know I would?" replied Ezra. "Your spill in the river had me
+scared stiff for a moment, but it was a mighty lucky accident for me."
+
+At the girl's suggestion they seated themselves outside, being joined
+before long by Petersen himself, who, with more than a trace of his
+Slavic ancestry apparent in his voice, thanked Marks for rescuing his
+daughter. It was when the older man left them and the girl's figure was
+outlined with startling distinctness by the light from the open door,
+that Ezra received a shock which brought him to earth with a crash.
+
+In the semidarkness he had been merely aware that the girl was wearing a
+dress which he would have characterized as "something white." But once
+he saw her standing in the center of the path of light which streamed
+from the interior of the house there could be no mistake.
+
+The dress was of white silk!
+
+More than that, it was made from material which Marks would have sworn
+had been cut from the same bolt as the sample which the Collector had
+shown him in Seattle!
+
+"What's the matter, Mr. Marks?" inquired the girl, evidently noting the
+surprise which Ezra was unable completely to suppress. "Seen a ghost or
+something?"
+
+"I thought for a moment I had," was the operative's reply, as he played
+for time. "It must be your dress. My--my sister had one just like it
+once."
+
+"It is rather pretty, isn't it? In spite of the fact that I made it
+myself--out of some silk that dad--that dad brought home."
+
+Ezra thought it best to change the subject, and as soon as he could find
+the opportunity said good night, with a promise to be on hand the next
+day to see that the plunge in the river wasn't repeated.
+
+But the next morning he kept as far away from the girl--Fay Petersen--as
+he could, without appearing to make a point of the matter. He had
+thought the whole thing over from every angle and his conclusion was
+always the same. The Petersens were either hand in glove with the gang
+that was running the silk across the border or they were doing the
+smuggling themselves. The lonely cabin, the proximity to the border, the
+air of restraint which he had noted the previous evening (based
+principally upon the fact that he had not been invited indoors), the
+silk dress--all were signs which pointed at least to a knowledge of the
+plot to beat the customs.
+
+More than that, when Marks commenced to make some guarded inquiries
+about the family of the girl whom he had saved from drowning, he met
+with a decidedly cool reception.
+
+"Old Man Petersen has some big loggin' interests in these parts,"
+declared the most loquacious of his informants, "an' they say he's made
+a pile o' money in the last few months. Some say it's timber an' others
+say it's--well, it ain't nobody's concern how a man makes a livin' in
+these parts, s'long as he behaves himself."
+
+"Isn't Petersen behaving himself?" asked Ezra.
+
+"Stranger," was the reply, "it ain't always healthy to pry into another
+man's affairs. Better be satisfied with goin' to see the girl. That's
+more than anybody around here's allowed to do."
+
+"So there was an air of mystery about the Petersen house, after all!"
+Marks thought. It hadn't been his imagination or an idea founded solely
+upon the sight of the silk dress!
+
+The next fortnight found the operative a constant and apparently a
+welcome visitor at the house up the river. But, hint as he might, he was
+never asked indoors--a fact that made him all the more determined to see
+what was going on. While he solaced himself with the thought that his
+visits were made strictly in the line of duty, that his only purpose was
+to discover Petersen's connection with the smuggled silk, Ezra was
+unable entirely to stifle another feeling--something which he hadn't
+known since the old days in Vermont, when the announcement of a girl's
+wedding to another man had caused him to leave home and seek his
+fortunes in Boston.
+
+Fay Petersen was pretty. There was no denying that fact. Also she was
+very evidently prepossessed in favor of the man who had saved her from
+the river. But this fact, instead of soothing Marks's conscience, only
+irritated it the more. Here he was on the verge of making love to a
+girl--really in love with her, as he admitted to himself--and at the
+same time planning and hoping to send her stepfather to the
+penitentiary. He had hoped that the fact that Petersen was not her own
+father might make things a little easier for him, but the girl had shown
+in a number of ways that she was just as fond of her foster-parent as
+she would have been of her own.
+
+"He's all the daddy I ever knew," she said one night, "and if anything
+ever happened to him I think it would drive me crazy," which fell far
+short of easing Ezra's mind, though it strengthened his determination to
+settle the matter definitely.
+
+The next evening that he visited the Petersens he left a little earlier
+than usual, and only followed the road back to Northport sufficiently
+far to make certain that he was not being trailed. Then retracing his
+steps, he approached the house from the rear, his soft moccasins moving
+silently across the ground, his figure crouched until he appeared little
+more than a shadow between the trees.
+
+Just as he reached the clearing which separated the dwelling from the
+woods, he stumbled and almost fell. His foot had caught against
+something which felt like the trunk of a fallen tree, but which moved
+with an ease entirely foreign to a log of that size.
+
+Puzzled, Marks waited until a cloud which had concealed the moon had
+drifted by, and then commenced his examination. Yes, it was a log--and a
+big one, still damp from its immersion in the river. But it was so light
+that he could lift it unaided and it rang to a rap from his knuckles.
+The end which he first examined was solid, but at the other end the log
+was a mere shell, not more than an inch of wood remaining inside the
+bark.
+
+It was not until he discovered a round plug of wood--a stopper, which
+fitted precisely into the open end of the log--that the solution of the
+whole mystery dawned upon him. The silk had been shipped across the
+border from Canada inside the trunks of trees, hollowed out for the
+purpose! Wrapping the bolts in oiled silk would keep them perfectly
+waterproof and the plan was so simple as to be impervious to detection,
+save by accident.
+
+Emboldened by his discovery, Marks slipped silently across the cleared
+space to the shadow of the house, and thence around to the side, where a
+few cautious cuts of his bowie knife opened a peep hole in the shutter
+which covered the window. Through this he saw what he had hoped for, yet
+feared to find--Petersen and three of his men packing bolts of white
+silk in boxes for reshipment. What was more, he caught snatches of their
+conversation which told him that another consignment of the smuggled
+goods was due from Trail, just across the border, within the week.
+
+Retreating as noiselessly as he had come, Marks made his way back to
+Northport, where he wrote two letters--or, rather, a letter and a note.
+The first, addressed to the sheriff, directed that personage to collect
+a posse and report to Ezra Marks, of the Customs Service, on the second
+day following. This was forwarded by special messenger, but Marks
+pocketed the note and slipped it cautiously under the door of the
+Petersen house the next evening.
+
+"It's a fifty-fifty split," he consoled his conscience. "The government
+gets the silk and the Petersens get their warning. I don't suppose I'll
+get anything but the devil for not landing them!"
+
+The next morning when the sheriff and his posse arrived they found, only
+an empty house, but in the main room were piled boxes containing no less
+than thirty thousand yards of white silk--valued at something over one
+hundred thousand dollars. On top of the boxes was an envelope addressed
+to Ezra Marks, Esq., and within it a note which read, "I don't know who
+you are, Mr. Customs Officer, but you're a man!"
+
+There was no signature, but the writing was distinctly feminine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"And was that all Marks ever heard from her?" I asked, when Quinn
+paused.
+
+"So far as I know," said the former operative. "Of course, Washington
+never heard about that part of the case. They were too well satisfied
+with Ezra's haul and the incoming cargo, which they also landed, to care
+much about the Petersens. So the whole thing was entered on Marks's
+record precisely as he had figured it--a fifty-fifty split. You see,
+even government agents aren't always completely successful--especially
+when they're fighting Cupid as well as crooks!"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE CLUE IN THE CLASSIFIED COLUMN
+
+
+Quinn tossed his evening paper aside with a gesture in which disgust was
+mingled in equal proportion with annoyance.
+
+"Why is it," he inquired, testily, "that some fools never learn
+anything?"
+
+"Possibly that's because they're fools," I suggested. "What's the
+trouble now?"
+
+"Look at that!" And the former Secret Service operative recovered the
+paper long enough to indicate a short news item near the bottom of the
+first page--an item which bore the headline, "New Fifty-Dollar
+Counterfeit Discovered."
+
+"Yes," I agreed, "there always are people foolish enough to change bills
+without examining them any too closely. But possibly this one is very
+cleverly faked."
+
+"Fools not to examine them!" echoed Quinn. "That isn't the direction in
+which the idiocy lies. The fools are the people who think they can
+counterfeit Uncle Sam's currency and get away with it. Barnum must have
+been right. There's a sucker born every minute--and those that don't try
+to beat the ponies or buck the stock market turn to counterfeiting for a
+living. They get it, too, in Leavenworth or Atlanta or some other place
+that maintains a federal penitentiary.
+
+"They never seem to learn anything by others' experience, either. You'd
+think, after the Thurene case, it would be perfectly apparent that no
+one could beat the counterfeiting game for long."
+
+"The Thurene case? I don't seem to remember that. The name is unusual,
+but--"
+
+"Yes, and that wasn't the only part of the affair that was out of the
+ordinary," Quinn cut in. "Spencer Graham also contributed some work that
+was well off the beaten path--not forgetting the assistance rendered by
+a certain young woman."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Probably the most remarkable portion of the case [continued Quinn] was
+the fact that Graham didn't get in on it until Thurene had been
+arrested. Nevertheless, if it hadn't been for his work in breaking
+through an ironclad alibi the government might have been left high and
+dry, with a trunkful of suspicions and mighty little else.
+
+Somewhere around the latter part of August the New York branch of the
+Secret Service informed Washington that a remarkably clever counterfeit
+fifty-dollar bill had turned up in Albany--a bill in which the engraving
+was practically perfect and the only thing missing from the paper was
+the silk fiber. This, however, was replaced by tiny red and blue lines,
+drawn in indelible ink. The finished product was so exceptionally good
+that, if it had not been for the lynxlike eyes of a paying teller--plus
+the highly developed sense of touch which bank officials accumulate--the
+note would have been changed without a moment's hesitation.
+
+The man who presented it, who happened to be well known to the bank
+officials, was informed that the bill was counterfeit and the matter was
+reported through the usual channels. A few days later another bill,
+evidently from the same batch, was picked up in Syracuse, and from that
+time on it rained counterfeits so hard that every teller in the state
+threw a fit whenever a fifty-dollar bill came in, either for deposit or
+for change.
+
+Hardly had the flow of upstate counterfeits lessened than the bills
+began to make their appearance in and around New York, sometimes in
+banks, but more often in the resorts patronized by bookmakers from
+Jamaica and the other near-by race tracks.
+
+The significance of this fact didn't strike the Secret Service men
+assigned to the case until the horses had moved southward. The instant
+one of the bills was reported in Baltimore two operatives were ordered
+to haunt the _pari-mutuel_ booths at Pimlico, with instructions to pay
+particular attention to the windows where the larger wagers were laid.
+An expert in counterfeits also took up his position inside the cage, to
+signal the men outside as soon as a phony bill was presented.
+
+It was during the rush of the betting after the two-year-olds had gone
+to the post for the first race that the signal came--indicating that a
+man about forty-five years of age, well dressed and well groomed, had
+exchanged two of the counterfeits for a one hundred-dollar ticket on the
+favorite.
+
+Hollister and Sheehan, the Secret Service men, took no chances with
+their prey. Neither did they run the risk of arresting him prematurely.
+Figuring that it was well within the realms of possibility that he had
+received the bills in exchange for other money, and that he was
+therefore ignorant of the fact that they were spurious, they contented
+themselves with keeping close to him during the race and the interval
+which followed.
+
+When the favorite won, the man they were watching cashed his bet and
+stowed his winnings away in a trousers pocket. Then, after a prolonged
+examination of the jockeys, the past performances and the weights of
+the various horses, he made his way back to the window to place another
+bet.
+
+Again the signal--and this time Hollister and Sheehan closed in on their
+man, notifying him that he was under arrest and advising him to come
+along without creating any disturbance.
+
+"Arrest for what?" he demanded.
+
+"Passing counterfeit money," replied Hollister, flashing his badge.
+Then, as the man started to protest, Sheehan counseled him to reserve
+his arguments until later, and the trio made their way out of the
+inclosure in silence.
+
+When searched, in Baltimore, two sums of money were found upon the
+suspect--one roll in his left-hand trousers pocket being made up of
+genuine currency, including that which he had received for picking the
+winner of the first race, and the one in the right-hand pocket being
+entirely of counterfeit fifty-dollar bills--forty-eight in number.
+
+When questioned, the prisoner claimed that his name was Robert J.
+Thurene of New Haven, and added that there were plenty of people in the
+Connecticut city who would vouch for his respectability.
+
+"Then why," inquired the chief of the Secret Service, who had come over
+from Washington to take charge of the case, "do you happen to have two
+thousand four hundred dollars in counterfeit money on you?"
+
+At that moment Thurene dropped his bomb--or, rather, one of the many
+which rendered the case far from monotonous.
+
+"If you'll search my room at the Belvedere," he suggested, "you'll find
+some five thousand dollars more."
+
+"What?" demanded the chief. "Do you admit that you deliberately brought
+seven thousand five hundred dollars of counterfeit money here and tried
+to pass it?"
+
+"I admit nothing," corrected the arrested man. "You stated that the
+fifty-dollar bills which you found upon me when I was searched against
+my will were false. I'll take your word for that. But if they are
+counterfeit, I'm merely telling you that there are a hundred more like
+them in my room at the hotel."
+
+"Of course you're willing to state where they came from?" suggested the
+chief, who was beginning to sense the fact that something underlay
+Thurene's apparent sincerity.
+
+"Certainly. I found them."
+
+"Old stuff," sneered one of the operatives standing near by. "Not only
+an old alibi, but one which you'll have a pretty hard time proving."
+
+"Do you happen to have a copy of yesterday's _News_ handy?" Thurene
+asked.
+
+When the paper was produced he turned rapidly to the Lost and Found
+column and pointed to an advertisement which appeared there:
+
+     FOUND--An envelope containing a sum of money. Owner may
+     recover same by notifying Robert J. Thurene, Belvedere Hotel,
+     and proving property.
+
+"There," he continued, after reading the advertisement aloud, "that is
+the notice which I inserted after finding the money which you say is
+counterfeit."
+
+"Where did you find it?"
+
+"In the Pennsylvania station, night before last. I had just come in from
+New York, and chanced to see the envelope lying under one of the rows of
+seats in the center of the waiting room. It attracted my attention, but
+when I examined it I was amazed to find that it contained one hundred
+and fifty fifty-dollar bills, all apparently brand new. Naturally, I
+didn't care to part with the money unless I was certain that I was
+giving it up to the rightful owner, so I carried it with me to the hotel
+and advertised the loss at once.
+
+"The next afternoon I went out to the track and found, when it was too
+late, that the only money I had with me was that contained in the
+envelope. I used a couple of the bills, won, and, being superstitious,
+decided to continue betting with that money. That's the reason I used it
+this afternoon. Come to think of it, you won't find the original five
+thousand dollars in my room. Part of it is the money which I received at
+the track and which I replaced in order to make up the sum I found. But
+most of the bills are there."
+
+"You said," remarked the chief, striking another tack, "that your name
+is Thurene and that you live in New Haven. What business are you in?"
+
+"Stationery. You'll find that my rating in Bradstreet's is excellent,
+even though my capital may not be large. What's more"--and here the
+man's voice became almost aggressive--"any bank in New Haven and any
+member of the Chamber of Commerce will vouch for me. I've a record of
+ten years there and some ten in Lowell, Mass., which will bear the
+closest possible inspection."
+
+And he was right, at that.
+
+In the first place, a search of his room at the hotel brought to light a
+large official envelope containing just the sum of money he had
+mentioned, counterfeit bills and real ones. Secondly, a wire to New
+Haven elicited the information that "Robert J. Thurene, answering to
+description in inquiry received, has operated a successful stationery
+store here for the past ten years. Financial standing excellent. Wide
+circle of friends, all of whom vouch for his character and integrity."
+
+When this wire was forwarded to Washington, the chief having returned
+to headquarters, Spencer Graham received a hurry-up call to report in
+the main office. There he was informed that he was to take charge of the
+Thurene case and see what he could find out.
+
+"I don't have to tell you," added the chief, "that it's rather a
+delicate matter. Either the man is the victim of circumstances--in which
+case we'll have to release him with profound apologies and begin all
+over again--or he's a mighty clever crook. We can't afford to take any
+chances. The case as it finally stands will have to be presented in
+court, and, therefore, must be proof against the acid test of shrewd
+lawyers for the defense, lawyers who will rely upon the newspaper
+advertisement and Thurene's spotless record as indications of his
+innocence."
+
+"That being the case, Chief, why take any chances right now? The case
+hasn't gotten into the papers, so why not release Thurene?"
+
+"And keep him under constant surveillance? That wouldn't be a bad idea.
+The moment he started to leave the country we could nab him, and
+meanwhile we would have plenty of time to look into the matter. Of
+course, there's always the danger of suicide--but that's proof of guilt,
+and it would save the Service a lot of work in the long run. Good idea!
+We'll do it."
+
+So it was that Robert J. Thurene of New Haven was released from custody
+with the apologies of the Secret Service--who retained the counterfeit
+money, but returned the real bills--while Spencer Graham went to work on
+the Baltimore end of the case, four operatives took up the job of
+trailing the stationer, and Rita Clarke found that she had important
+business to transact in Connecticut.
+
+Anyone who didn't know Rita would never have suspected that, back of
+her brown eyes lay a fund of information upon a score of
+subjects--including stenography, the best methods of filing, cost
+accounting, and many other points which rendered her invaluable around
+an office. Even if they found this out, there was something else which
+she kept strictly to herself--the fact that she was engaged to a
+certain operative in the United States Secret Service, sometimes known
+as Number Thirty-three, and sometimes as Spencer Graham.
+
+In reply to Spencer's often-repeated requests that she set a day for
+their wedding, Miss Clarke would answer: "And lose the chance to figure
+in any more cases? Not so that you could notice it! As long as I'm
+single you find that you can use me every now and then, but if I were
+married I'd have too many domestic cares. No, Spencer, let's wait until
+we get one more BIG case, and then--well, we'll say one month from the
+day it's finished."
+
+Which was the reason that Graham and his fiancee had a double reason for
+wanting to bring Thurene to earth.
+
+The first place that Graham went to in Baltimore was the Pennsylvania
+station, where he made a number of extended inquiries of certain
+employees there. After that he went to the newspaper office, where he
+conferred with the clerk whose business it was to receive the lost and
+found advertisements, finally securing a copy of the original notice in
+Thurene's handwriting. Also some other information which he jotted down
+in a notebook reserved for that purpose.
+
+Several days spent in Baltimore failed to turn up any additional leads
+and Graham returned to Washington with a request for a list of the
+various places where counterfeit fifty-dollar bills had been reported
+during the past month. The record sounded like the megaphonic call of a
+train leaving Grand Central Station--New York, Yonkers, Poughkeepsie,
+Syracuse, Troy, and points north, with a few other cities thrown in for
+good measure. So Spencer informed the chief that he would make his
+headquarters in New York for the next ten days or so, wired Rita to the
+same effect, and left Washington on the midnight train.
+
+In New York he discovered only what he had already known, plus one other
+very significant bit of evidence--something which would have warranted
+him in placing Thurene again under arrest had he not been waiting for
+word from Rita. He knew that it would take her at least a month to work
+up her end of the case, so Graham put in the intervening time in weaving
+his net a little stronger, for he had determined that the next time the
+New Haven stationer was taken into custody would be the last--that the
+government would have a case which all the lawyers on earth couldn't
+break.
+
+Early in December he received a wire from Rita--a telegram which
+contained the single word, "Come"--but that was enough. He was in New
+Haven that night, and, in a quiet corner of the Taft grille the girl
+gave him an account of what she had found.
+
+"Getting into Thurene's store was the easiest part of the whole job,"
+she admitted. "It took me less than a day to spot one of the girls who
+wanted to get married, bribe her to leave, and then arrive bright and
+early the following morning, in response to the 'stenographer wanted'
+advertisement."
+
+"Thurene's had a lot of practice writing ads lately," remarked Graham,
+with a smile.
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Nothing. Tell you later. What'd you find in the store?"
+
+"Not a thing--until day before yesterday. I thought it best to move
+slowly and let matters take their own course as far as possible. So I
+contented myself with doing the work which had been handled by the girl
+whose place I took--dictation, typing, and the rest. Then I found that
+the correspondence files were in shocking shape. I grabbed the
+opportunity to do a little night work by offering to bring them up to
+date.
+
+"'Certainly,' said the boss, and then took good care to be on hand when
+I arrived after dinner that night. The very way he hung around and
+watched every movement I made convinced me that the stuff was somewhere
+on the premises. But where? That's what I couldn't figure out.
+
+"Having demonstrated my ability by three hours of stiff work on the
+files, I suggested a few days later that I had a first-hand knowledge of
+cost accounting and that I would be glad to help get his books in shape
+for the holiday business, the old man who usually attends to this being
+sick. Again Thurene assented and again he blew in, 'to explain any
+entries which might prove troublesome.' I'll say this for him,
+though--there isn't a single incriminating entry on the books. Every
+purchase is accounted for, down to the last paper of pins.
+
+"Then, when I felt that I had wormed myself sufficiently well into his
+good graces, I hinted that I might be able to help out by supervising
+the system in the engraving department--checking up the purchases,
+watching the disbursements, keeping an eye on the stock and so on.
+Rather to my surprise, he didn't offer any objection. Said that my work
+had been of so much help elsewhere that he would be glad to have me
+watch the engravers' work.
+
+"It was there that I got my first real lead--at least I hope it's a
+lead. Back of the engraving department is a small room, locked and
+padlocked, where the boss is supposed to ride his personal hobby of
+amateur photography. I asked one of the men the reason for guarding a
+dark room so carefully, and he replied that Thurene claimed to be on the
+verge of making a great discovery in color photography, but that the
+process took a long time and he didn't want to run the risk of having it
+disturbed. I'm to have a look at his color process to-night."
+
+"What?" cried Graham. "He's going to show you what is in the
+double-locked room?"
+
+"That's what he's promised to do. I haven't the least hope of seeing
+anything incriminating--all the evidence will probably be well
+hidden--but this morning I expressed a casual interest in photography
+and remarked that I understood he was working on a new color process. I
+did it mainly to see how he would react. But he never batted an eyelid.
+'I've been making some interesting experiments recently,' he said, 'and
+they ought to reach a climax to-night. If you'd care to see how they
+turn out, suppose you meet me here at nine o'clock and we'll examine
+them together.'"
+
+"But Rita," Graham protested, "you don't mean to say that you're going
+to put yourself entirely in this man's power?"
+
+The girl's first answer was a laugh, and then, "What do you mean, 'put
+myself in his power'?" she mocked. "You talk like the hero of a
+melodrama. This isn't the first time that I've been alone in the store
+with him after dark. Besides, he doesn't suspect a thing and it's too
+good a chance to miss. Meet me here the first thing in the
+morning--around eight-thirty--and I'll give you the details of Thurene's
+secret chamber, provided it contains anything interesting."
+
+"Rita, I can't--" Graham started to argue, but the girl cut in with,
+"You can't stop me? No, you can't. What's more, I'll have to hurry. It's
+ten minutes to nine now. See you in the morning."
+
+The next thing Graham knew she had slipped away from the table and was
+on her way out of the grille.
+
+When Rita reached the Thurene establishment, promptly at nine, she found
+the proprietor waiting for her.
+
+"On time, as usual," he laughed. "Now you'd better keep your hat and
+coat on. There's no heat in the dark room and I don't want you to catch
+cold. The plates ought to be ready by this time. We'll go right down and
+take a look at them."
+
+Guided by the light from the lantern which the stationer held high in
+the air, the girl started down the steps leading to the basement where
+the engraving department was located. She heard Thurene close the door
+behind him, but failed to hear him slip the bolt which, as they
+afterward found, had been well oiled.
+
+In fact, it was not until they had reached the center of the large room,
+in one corner of which was the door to the private photographic
+laboratory, that she knew anything was wrong. Then it was too late.
+
+Before she could move, Thurene leaned forward and seized her--one arm
+about her waist, the other over her mouth. Struggle as she might, Rita
+was unable to move. Slowly, relentlessly, Thurene turned her around
+until she faced him, and then, with a sudden movement of the arm that
+encircled her waist, secured a wad of cotton waste, which he had
+evidently prepared for just such an emergency. When he had crammed this
+in the girl's mouth and tied her hands securely, he moved forward to
+open the door to the dark room.
+
+"Thought I was easy, didn't you?" he sneered. "Didn't think I'd see
+through your scheme to get a position here and your infernal cleverness
+with the books and the accounts? Want to see something of my color
+process, eh? Well, you'll have an opportunity to study it at your
+leisure, for it'll be twelve good hours before anyone comes down here,
+and by that time I'll be where the rest of your crowd can't touch me."
+
+"Come along! In with you!"
+
+At that moment there was a crash of glass from somewhere near the
+ceiling and something leaped into the room--something that took only two
+strides to reach Thurene and back him up against the wall, with the
+muzzle of a very businesslike automatic pressed into the pit of his
+stomach.
+
+The whole thing happened so quickly that by the time Rita recovered her
+balance and turned around she only saw the stationer with his hands well
+above his head and Spencer Graham--her Spencer--holding him up at the
+point of a gun.
+
+"Take this," snapped the operative, producing a penknife, "and cut that
+girl's hands loose! No false moves now--or I'm likely to get nervous!"
+
+A moment later Rita was free and Thurene had resumed his position
+against the wall.
+
+"Frisk him!" ordered Graham, and then, when the girl had produced a
+miscellaneous collection of money, keys and jewelry from the man's
+pockets, Spencer allowed him to drop his arms long enough to snap a pair
+of handcuffs in place.
+
+"This time," announced the Secret Service man, "you won't be released
+merely because of a fake ad. and the testimony of your friends. Pretty
+clever scheme, that. Inserting a 'found advertisement' to cover your
+possession of counterfeit money in case you were caught. But you
+overlooked a couple of points. The station in Baltimore was thoroughly
+swept just five minutes before your train arrived from New York and
+every man on duty there is ready to swear that he wouldn't have
+overlooked anything as large as the envelope containing that phony
+money. Then, too, the clerk in the _News_ office received your
+advertisement shortly after noon the next day--so you didn't advertise
+it 'at once,' as you said you did.
+
+"But your biggest mistake was in playing the game too often.
+Here"--producing a page from the classified section of a New York
+newspaper--"is the duplicate of your Baltimore ad., inserted to cover
+your tracks in case they caught you at Jamaica. I've got the original,
+in your handwriting, in my pocket."
+
+"But how'd you happen to arrive here at the right moment?" exclaimed
+Rita.
+
+"I wasn't any too well convinced that you'd fooled our friend here,"
+Graham replied. "So I trailed you, and, attracted by the light from
+Thurene's lantern, managed to break in that window at the time you
+needed me."
+
+"There's only one thing that puzzles me," the operative continued,
+turning to Thurene. "What made you take up counterfeiting? Your business
+record was clear enough before that, and, of course, being an engraver,
+it wasn't hard for you to find the opportunity. What was the motive?"
+
+For a full sixty seconds the man was silent and then, from between his
+clenched teeth, came two words, "Wall Street."
+
+"I might have guessed that," replied Graham. "I'll see you safely in
+jail first and then have a look through your room. Want to come along,
+Rita?"
+
+"No, thanks, Spencer. I've had enough for one evening. Let's see. This
+is the sixth of December. Suppose we plan a certain event for the sixth
+of January?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"And so they were married and lived happily ever after?" I added, as
+Quinn paused.
+
+"And so they were married," he amended. "I can't say as to the rest of
+it--though I'm inclined to believe that they were happy. Anyhow, Rita
+knew when she had enough--and that's all you can really ask for in a
+wife."
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+IN THE SHADOW OF THE CAPITOL
+
+
+"It won't be long until they're all back--with their pretty clothes and
+their jeweled bags and their air of innocent sophistication--but until
+at least a dozen of them gather here Washington won't be itself again."
+
+Bill Quinn and I had been discussing the change which had come over
+Washington since peace had disrupted the activities of the various war
+organizations, and then, after a pause, the former member of the Secret
+Service had referred to "them" and to "their pretty clothes."
+
+"Who do you mean?" I inquired. "With the possible exception of some
+prominent politicians I don't know anyone whose presence is essential to
+make Washington 'itself again.' And certainly nobody ever accused
+politicians, with the possible exception of J. Ham Lewis, of wearing
+pretty clothes. Even he didn't carry a jeweled bag."
+
+"I wasn't thinking of Congressmen or Senators or even members of the
+Cabinet," replied Quinn with a smile. "Like the poor, they are always
+with us, and also like the poor, there are times when we would willingly
+dispense with them. But the others--they make life worth living,
+particularly for members of the Secret Service, who are apt to be a bit
+bored with the monotony of chasing counterfeiters and guarding the
+President.
+
+"The ones I refer to are the beautifully gowned women whose too perfect
+English often betrays their foreign origin almost as certainly as would
+a dialect. They are sent here by various governments abroad to find out
+things which we would like to keep secret and their presence helps to
+keep Washington cosmopolitan and--interesting.
+
+"During the war--well, if you recall the case of Jimmy Callahan and the
+electric sign at Norfolk--the affair which I believe you wrote under the
+title of 'A Flash in the Night'--you know what happened to those who
+were caught plotting against the government. In times of peace, however,
+things are different."
+
+"Why? Isn't a spy always a spy?"
+
+"So far as their work is concerned they are. But by a sort of
+international agreement, tacit but understood, those who seek to pry
+into the affairs of other governments during the years of peace are not
+treated with the same severity as when a nation is fighting for its
+life."
+
+"But surely we have no secrets that a foreign government would want!" I
+protested. "That's one of the earmarks of a republic. Everything is
+aired in the open, even dirty linen."
+
+Quinn didn't answer for a moment, and when he did reply there was a
+reminiscent little smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
+
+"Do you remember the disappearance of the plans of the battleship
+_Pennsylvania_?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I think I do. But as I recall it the matter was never cleared up."
+
+"Officially, it wasn't. Unofficially, it was. At least there are several
+persons connected with the United States Secret Service who are positive
+that Sylvia Sterne lifted the blue prints and afterward--well, we might
+as well begin the story at the first chapter."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The name she was known by on this side of the Atlantic [continued the
+former government agent] was not that of Sterne, though subsequent
+investigations proved that that was what she was called in Paris and
+Vienna and Rome and London. When she arrived in Washington her visiting
+cards bore the name of the Countess Stefani, and as there are half a
+dozen counts of that name to be found in the peerages of as many
+principalities, no one inquired too deeply into her antecedents.
+
+Yes, she admitted that there was a count somewhere in the background,
+but she led those who were interested to the conclusion he had never
+understood her peculiar temperament and that therefore she was
+sojourning in Washington, seeking pleasure and nothing more. A slow,
+soulful glance from her violet eyes usually accompanied the
+statement--and caused the man to whom the statement was made (it was
+always a man) to wonder how anyone could fail to appreciate so charming
+a creature.
+
+"Charming" is really a very good word to apply to the Countess Sylvia.
+Her manner was charming and her work was likewise. Charming secrets and
+invitations and news out of those with whom she came in contact.
+
+Her first public appearance, so far as the Secret Service was concerned,
+was at one of the receptions at the British embassy. She was there on
+invitation, of course, but it was an invitation secured in her own
+original way.
+
+Immediately upon arriving in Washington she had secured an apartment at
+Brickley Court, an apartment which chanced to be directly across the
+hall from the one occupied by a Mrs. Sheldon, a young widow with a
+rather large acquaintance in the diplomatic set.
+
+Some ten days after the Countess Sylvia took up her residence on
+Connecticut Avenue she visited one of the department stores and made
+several purchases, ordering them sent C. O. D. to her apartment. Only,
+instead of giving the number as four thirty-six, her tongue apparently
+slipped and she said four thirty-seven, which was Mrs. Sheldon's number.
+Of course, if the parcels had been paid for or charged they would have
+been left at the desk in the lobby, but, being collect, the boy brought
+them to the door of four thirty-seven.
+
+As was only natural, Mrs. Sheldon was about to order them returned when
+the door across the hall opened and the countess, attired in one of her
+most fetching house gowns, appeared and explained the mistake.
+
+"How stupid of me!" she exclaimed. "I must have given the girl the wrong
+apartment number. I'm awfully sorry for troubling you, Mrs. Sheldon."
+
+The widow, being young, could not restrain the look of surprise when her
+name was mentioned by a woman who was an utter stranger, but the
+countess cut right in with:
+
+"You probably don't remember me, but we met two years ago on Derby Day
+in London. The count and I had the pleasure of meeting you through Lord
+Cartwright, but it was just before the big race, and when I looked
+around again you had been swallowed up in the crowd."
+
+Mrs. Sheldon had been at the Derby two years before, as the countess
+doubtless knew before she arrived in Washington, and also she remembered
+having met a number of persons during that eventful afternoon. So the
+rest was easy for Sylvia, particularly as the first half hour of their
+conversation uncovered the fact that they had many mutual friends, all
+of whom, however, were in Europe.
+
+Through Mrs. Sheldon the countess met a number of the younger and lesser
+lights of the Diplomatic Corps and the invitation to the reception at
+the British Embassy was hers for the suggestion.
+
+Before the evening was over several men were asking themselves where
+they had met that "very charming countess" before. Some thought it must
+have been in Paris, others were certain that it was in Vienna, and still
+others maintained that her face brought back memories of their detail in
+Saint Petersburg (the name of the Russian capital had not then been
+altered). Sylvia didn't enlighten any of them. Neither did she volunteer
+details, save of the vaguest nature, contenting herself with knowing
+glances which hinted much and bits of frothy gossip which conveyed
+nothing. The beauty of her face and the delicate curves of her figure
+did the rest. Before the evening was over she had met at least the
+younger members of all the principal embassies and legations, not to
+mention three men whose names appeared upon the roster of the Senate
+Committee on Foreign Relations.
+
+To one of these, Senator Lattimer, she paid particular attention,
+assuring him that she would be honored if he would "drop in some
+afternoon for tea," an invitation which the gentleman from Iowa accepted
+with alacrity a few days later.
+
+As was afterward apparent, the countess had arranged her schedule with
+considerable care. She had arrived in Washington early in the fall, and
+by the time the season was well under way she had the entree to the
+majority of the semiprivate functions--teas and receptions and dances to
+which a number of guests were invited. Here, of course, she had an
+opportunity to pick up a few morsels of information--crumbs which fell
+from the tables of diplomacy--but that wasn't what she was after. She
+wanted a copy of a certain confidential report referring to American
+relations abroad, and, what's more, she'd have gotten it if she hadn't
+overstepped herself.
+
+Through what might have been termed in vulgar circles "pumping" Senator
+Lattimer, though the countess's casual inquiries from time to time
+evinced only a natural interest in the affairs of the world, Sylvia
+found out that the report would be completed early in March and that a
+copy would be in the Senator's office for at least two days--or, what
+interested her more, two nights.
+
+She didn't intimate that she would like to see it. That would have been
+too crude. In fact, she deftly turned the subject and made the Senator
+believe that she was interested only in his views with respect to the
+stabilization of currency or some such topic far removed from the point
+they had mentioned.
+
+Just before he left, however, Senator Lattimer mentioned that there was
+going to be a big display of fireworks around the Washington Monument
+the following evening, and inquired if the countess would be interested
+in witnessing the celebration.
+
+"Surely," said she. "Why not let's watch them from the roof here? We
+ought to able to get an excellent view."
+
+"I've got a better idea than that," was the senatorial reply. "We'll go
+down to the State, War, and Navy Building. The windows on the south side
+ought to be ideal for that purpose and there won't be any trouble about
+getting in. I'll see to that," he added, with just a touch of pomposity.
+
+So it happened that among the dozen or more persons who occupied choice
+seats in a room in the Navy Department that next night were the Hon.
+Arthur H. Lattimer and the Countess Stefani.
+
+The next morning it was discovered that plans relating to certain recent
+naval improvements--radical changes which were to be incorporated in
+the battleship _Pennsylvania_--were missing.
+
+The chief learned of the loss about nine-thirty, and by ten o'clock
+every available man was turned loose on the case, with instructions to
+pry into the past records and watch the future actions of the people who
+had been in the room on the previous evening.
+
+Because he particularly requested it, Owen Williams, whose connection
+with the Secret Service was not a matter of general information, was
+detailed to learn what he could of the Countess Stefani.
+
+"I've run into her a couple of times recently," he told the chief, "and
+there's something not altogether on the level about the lady. I don't
+suppose we have time to cable abroad and trace the particular branch of
+the family to which she claims to belong, but I have a hunch that she is
+not working altogether in the interest of Europe. A certain
+yellow-skinned person whom we both know has been seen coming out of
+Brickley Court on several occasions within the past month, and--well,
+the countess is worth watching."
+
+"Trail her, then!" snapped the chief. "The department has asked for
+quick action in this case, for there are reasons which render it
+inadvisable for those plans to get out of the country."
+
+"Right!" replied Williams, settling his hat at a rather jaunty angle and
+picking up his gloves and stick. "I'll keep in close touch with you and
+report developments. If you want me within the next couple of hours I'll
+probably be somewhere around Brickley Court. The countess never rises
+until round noon."
+
+But that morning, as Williams soon discovered, something appeared to
+have interfered with the routine of the fair Sylvia. She had called the
+office about nine o'clock, made an inquiry about the New York trains,
+ordered a chair reserved on the eleven and a taxi for ten forty-five.
+All of which gave Owen just enough time to phone the chief, tell him of
+the sudden change in his plans, and suggest that the countess's room be
+searched during her absence.
+
+"Tell New York to have some one pick up Stefani as soon as she arrives,"
+Williams concluded. "I'm going to renew my acquaintance with her en
+route, find out where she's staying, and frame an excuse for being at
+the same hotel. But I may not be able to accompany her there, so have
+some one trail her from the station. I'll make any necessary reports
+through the New York office."
+
+Just after the train pulled out of Baltimore the Countess Stefani saw a
+young and distinctly handsome man, whose face was vaguely familiar, rise
+from his seat at the far end of the car and come toward her. Then, as he
+reached her chair he halted, surprised.
+
+"This is luck!" he exclaimed. "I never hoped to find you on the train,
+Countess! Going through to New York, of course?"
+
+As he spoke the man's name came back to her, together with the fact that
+he had been pointed out as one of the eligible young bachelors who
+apparently did but little and yet had plenty of money to do it with.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Williams! You gave me a bit of a start at first. Your face was
+in the shadow and I didn't recognize you. Yes, I'm just running up for a
+little shopping. Won't be gone for more than a day or two, for I must be
+back in time for the de Maury dance on Thursday evening. You are going,
+I suppose?"
+
+Thankful for the opening, Williams occupied the vacant chair next to
+hers, and before they reached Havre de Grace they were deep in a
+discussion of people and affairs in Washington. It was not Williams's
+intention, however, to allow the matter to stop there. Delicately, but
+certainly, he led the conversation into deeper channels, exerting every
+ounce of his personality to convince the countess that this was a moment
+for which he had longed, an opportunity to chat uninterruptedly with
+"the most charming woman in Washington."
+
+"This is certainly the shortest five hours I've ever spent," he assured
+his companion as the porter announced their arrival at Manhattan
+Transfer. "Can't I see something more of you while we are in New York?
+I'm not certain when I'll get back to Washington and this glimpse has
+been far too short. Are you going to stop with friends?"
+
+"No--at the Vanderbilt. Suppose you call up to-morrow morning and I'll
+see what I can do."
+
+"Why not a theater party this evening?"
+
+"I'm sorry, but I have an engagement."
+
+"Right--to-morrow morning, then," and the operative said good-by with a
+clear conscience, having noted that one of the men from the New York
+office was already on the job.
+
+Later in the evening he was informed that the countess had gone directly
+to her hotel, had dressed for dinner, and then, after waiting in the
+lobby for nearly an hour, had eaten a solitary meal and had gone back to
+her room, leaving word at the desk that she was to be notified
+immediately if anyone called. But no one had.
+
+The next morning, instead of phoning, Williams dropped around to the
+Vanderbilt and had a short session with the house detective, who had
+already been notified that the Countess Stefani was being watched by
+Secret Service operatives. The house man, however, verified the report
+of the operative who had picked up the countess at the station--she had
+received no callers and had seen no one save the maid.
+
+"Any phone messages?"
+
+"Not one."
+
+"Any mail?"
+
+"Just a newspaper, evidently one that a friend had mailed from
+Washington. The address was in a feminine hand and--"
+
+"Tell the maid that I want the wrapper of that paper if it's in the
+countess's room," interrupted Williams. "I don't want the place searched
+for it, but if it happens to be in the wastebasket be sure I get it."
+
+A moment later he was calling the Countess Stefani, presumably from the
+office of a friend of his in Wall Street.
+
+"I'm afraid I can't see you to-day," and Sylvia's voice appeared to
+register infinite regret. "I wasn't able to complete a little business
+deal I had on last night--succumbed to temptation and went to the
+theater, so I'll have to pay for it to-day." (Here Williams suppressed a
+chuckle, both at the manner in which the lady handled the truth and at
+the fact that she was palpably ignorant that she had been shadowed.)
+"I'm returning to Washington on the Congressional, but I'll be sure to
+see you at the de Maurys', won't I? Please come down--for my sake!"
+
+"I'll do it," was Owen's reply, "and I can assure you that my return to
+Washington will be entirely because I feel that I must see you again. Au
+revoir, until Thursday night."
+
+"On the Congressional Limited, eh?" he muttered as he stepped out of the
+booth. "Maybe it's a stall, but I'll make the train just the same.
+Evidently one of the lady's plans has gone amiss."
+
+"Here's the wrapper you wanted," said the house detective, producing a
+large torn envelope, slit lengthwise and still showing by its rounded
+contour that it had been used to inclose a rolled newspaper.
+
+"Thanks," replied Williams, as he glanced at the address. "I thought
+so."
+
+"Thought what?"
+
+"Come over here a minute," and he steered the detective to the desk,
+where he asked to be shown the register for the preceding day. Then,
+pointing to the name "Countess Sylvia Stefani" on the hotel sheet and to
+the same name on the wrapper, he asked, "Note everything?"
+
+"The handwriting is the same!"
+
+"Precisely. The countess mailed this paper herself at this hotel before
+she left Washington. And, if I'm not very much mistaken, she'll mail
+another one to herself in Washington, before she leaves New York."
+
+"You want it intercepted?"
+
+"I do not! If Sylvia is willing to trust the Post-office Department with
+her secret, I certainly am. But I intend to be on hand when that paper
+arrives."
+
+Sure enough, just before leaving for the station that afternoon,
+Williams found out from his ally at the Vanderbilt that the countess had
+slipped a folded and addressed newspaper into the mail box in the lobby.
+She had then paid her bill and entered a taxi, giving the chauffeur
+instructions to drive slowly through Central Park. Sibert, the operative
+who was trailing her, reported that several times she appeared to be on
+the point of stopping, but had ordered the taxi driver to go
+on--evidently being suspicious that she was followed and not wishing to
+take any chances.
+
+Of this, though, Williams knew nothing--for a glance into one of the
+cars on the Congressional Limited had been sufficient to assure him that
+his prey was aboard. He spent the rest of the trip in the smoker, so
+that he might not run into her.
+
+In Washington, however, a surprise awaited him.
+
+Instead of returning at once to Brickley Court, the countess checked her
+bag at the station and hired a car by the hour, instructing the driver
+to take her to the Chevy Chase Club. Williams, of course, followed in
+another car, but had the ill fortune to lose the first taxi in the crush
+of machines which is always to be noted on dance nights at the club, and
+it was well on toward morning before he could locate the chauffeur he
+wanted to reach.
+
+According to that individual, the lady had not gone into the club, at
+all, but, changing her mind, had driven on out into the country,
+returning to Washington at midnight.
+
+"Did she meet anyone?" demanded Williams.
+
+"Not a soul, sir. Said she just wanted to drive through the country and
+that she had to be at the Senate Office Building at twelve o'clock."
+
+"The Senate Office Building?" echoed the operative. "At midnight? Did
+you drop her there?"
+
+"I did, sir. She told me to wait and she was out again in five minutes,
+using the little door in the basement--the one that's seldom locked. I
+thought she was the wife of one of the Senators. Then I drove her to
+Union Station to get her bag, and then to Brickley Court, where she paid
+me and got out."
+
+The moment the chauffeur had mentioned the Senate Office Building a
+mental photograph of Senator Lattimer had sprung to Williams's mind, for
+the affair between the countess and the Iowa statesman was public
+property.
+
+Telling the chauffeur to wait in the outer room, the operative called
+the Lattimer home and insisted on speaking to the Senator.
+
+"Yes, it's a matter of vital importance!" he snapped. Then, a few
+moments later, when a gruff but sleepy voice inquired what he wanted:
+
+"This is Williams of the Secret Service speaking, Senator. Have you any
+documents of importance--international importance--in your office at the
+present moment?"
+
+"No, nothing of particular value. Wait a minute! A copy of a certain
+report to the Committee on Foreign Relations arrived late yesterday and
+I remember seeing it on my desk as I left. Why? What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing--except that I don't think that report is there now," replied
+Williams. "Can you get to your office in ten minutes?"
+
+"I'll be there!"
+
+But a thorough search by the two of them failed to reveal any trace of
+the document. It had gone--vanished--in spite of the fact that the door
+was locked as usual.
+
+"Senator," announced the government agent, "a certain woman you know
+took that paper. She got in here with a false key, lifted the report and
+was out again in less than five minutes. The theft occurred shortly
+after midnight and--"
+
+"If you know so much about it, why don't you arrest her?"
+
+"I shall--before the hour is up. Only I thought you might like to know
+in advance how your friend the Countess Stefani worked. She was also
+responsible for the theft of the plans of the battleship _Pennsylvania_,
+you know."
+
+And Williams was out of the room before the look of amazement had faded
+from the Senator's face.
+
+Some thirty minutes later the Countess Sylvia was awakened by the sound
+of continued rapping on her door. In answer to her query, "Who's
+there?" a man's voice replied, "Open this door, or I'll break it in!"
+
+Williams, however, knew that his threat was an idle one, for the doors
+at Brickley Court were built of solid oak that defied anything short of
+a battering ram. Which was the reason that he had to wait a full five
+minutes, during which time he distinctly heard the sound of paper
+rattling and then the rasp of a match as it was struck.
+
+Finally the countess, attired in a bewitching negligee, threw open the
+door.
+
+"Ah!" she exclaimed. "So it is you, Mr. Williams! What do you--"
+
+"You know what I want," growled Owen. "That paper you stole from
+Lattimer's office to-night. Also the plans you lifted from the Navy
+Department. The ones you mailed in New York yesterday afternoon and
+which were waiting for you here!"
+
+"Find them!" was the woman's mocking challenge as Williams's eyes roved
+over the room and finally rested on a pile of crumbled ashes beside an
+alcohol lamp on the table. A moment's examination told him that a blue
+print had been burned, but it was impossible to tell what it had been,
+and there was no trace of any other paper in the ashes.
+
+"Search her!" he called to a woman in the corridor. "I'm going to rifle
+the mail-box downstairs. She can't get away with the same trick three
+times!"
+
+And there, in an innocent-looking envelope addressed to a certain
+personage whose name stood high on the diplomatic list, Williams
+discovered the report for which a woman risked her liberty and gambled
+six months of her life!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"But the plans?" I asked as Quinn finished.
+
+"Evidently that was what she had burned. She'd taken care to crumple the
+ashes so that it was an impossibility to get a shred of direct evidence,
+not that it would have made any difference if she hadn't. The government
+never prosecutes matters of this kind, except in time of war. They
+merely warn the culprit to leave the country and never return--which is
+the reason that, while you'll find a number of very interesting
+foreigners in Washington at the present moment, the Countess Sylvia
+Stefani is not among them. Neither is the personage to whom her letter
+was addressed. He was 'recalled' a few weeks later."
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+A MILLION-DOLLAR QUARTER
+
+
+"What's in the phial?" I inquired one evening, as Bill Quinn, formerly
+of the United States Secret Service, picked up a small brown bottle from
+the table in his den and slipped it into his pocket.
+
+"Saccharine," retorted Quinn, laconically. "Had to come to it in order
+to offset the sugar shortage. No telling how long it will continue, and,
+meanwhile, we're conserving what we have on hand. So I carry my 'lump
+sugar' in my vest pocket, and I'll keep on doing it until conditions
+improve. They say the trouble lies at the importing end. Can't secure
+enough sugar at the place where the ships are or enough ships at the
+place where the sugar is.
+
+"This isn't the first time that sugar has caused trouble, either. See
+that twenty-five-cent piece up there on the wall? Apparently it's an
+ordinary everyday quarter. But it cost the government well over a
+million dollars, money which should have been paid in as import duty on
+tons upon tons of sugar.
+
+"Yes, back of that quarter lies a case which is absolutely unique in the
+annals of governmental detective work--the biggest and most far-reaching
+smuggling plot ever discovered and the one which took the longest time
+to solve.
+
+"Nine years seems like a mighty long time to work on a single
+assignment, but when you consider that the Treasury collected more than
+two million dollars as a direct result of one man's labor during that
+time, you'll see that it was worth while."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The whole thing really started when Dick Carr went to work as a sugar
+sampler [continued Quinn, his eyes fixed meditatively upon the quarter
+on the wall].
+
+Some one had tipped the department off to the fact that phony sampling
+of some sort was being indulged in and Dick managed to get a place as
+assistant on one of the docks where the big sugar ships unloaded. As you
+probably know, there's a big difference in the duty on the different
+grades of raw sugar; a difference based upon the tests made by expert
+chemists as soon as the cargo is landed. Sugar which is only ninety-two
+per cent pure, for example, comes in half-a-cent a pound cheaper than
+that which is ninety-six per cent pure, and the sampling is accomplished
+by inserting a thin glass tube through the wide meshes of the bag or
+basket which contains the sugar.
+
+It didn't take Carr very long to find out that the majority of the
+samplers were slipping their tubes into the bags at an angle, instead of
+shoving them straight in, and that a number of them made a practice of
+moistening the outside of the container before they made their tests.
+The idea, of course, was that the sugar which had absorbed moisture,
+either during the voyage or after reaching the dock--would not "assay"
+as pure as would the dry material in the center of the package. A few
+experiments, conducted under the cover of night, showed a difference of
+four to six per cent in the grade of the samples taken from the inside
+of the bag and that taken from a point close to the surface,
+particularly if even a small amount of water had been judiciously
+applied.
+
+The difference, when translated into terms of a half-a-cent a pound
+import duty, didn't take long to run up into hundreds of thousands of
+dollars, and Carr's report, made after several months' investigating,
+cost a number of sugar samplers their jobs and brought the wrath of the
+government down upon the companies which had been responsible for the
+practice.
+
+After such an exposure as this, you might think that the sugar people
+would have been content to take their legitimate profit and to pay the
+duty levied by law. But Carr had the idea that they would try to put
+into operation some other scheme for defrauding the Treasury and during
+years that followed he kept in close touch with the importing situation
+and the personnel of the men employed on the docks.
+
+The active part he had played in the sugar-sampling exposure naturally
+prevented his active participation in any attempt to uncover the fraud
+from the inside, but it was the direct cause of his being summoned to
+Washington when a discharged official of one of the sugar companies
+filed a charge that the government was losing five hundred thousand
+dollars a year by the illicit operations at a single plant.
+
+"Frankly, I haven't the slightest idea of how it's being done,"
+confessed the official in question. "But I am certain that some kind of
+a swindle is being perpetrated on a large scale. Here's the proof!"
+
+With that he produced two documents--one the bill of lading of the
+steamer _Murbar_, showing the amount of sugar on board when she cleared
+Java, and the other the official receipt, signed by a representative of
+the sugar company, for her cargo when she reached New York.
+
+"As you will note," continued the informant, "the bill of lading clearly
+shows that the _Murbar_ carried eleven million seven hundred thirty-four
+thousand six hundred eighty-seven pounds of raw sugar. Yet, when
+weighed under the supervision of the customhouse officials a few weeks
+later, the cargo consisted of only eleven million thirty-two thousand
+and sixteen pounds--a 'shrinkage' of seven hundred two thousand six
+hundred seventy-one pounds, about six per cent of the material
+shipment."
+
+"And at the present import duty that would amount to about--"
+
+"In the neighborhood of twelve thousand dollars loss on this ship
+alone," stated the former sugar official. "Allowing for the arrival of
+anywhere from fifty to a hundred ships a year, you can figure the annual
+deficit for yourself."
+
+Carr whistled. He had rather prided himself upon uncovering the sampling
+frauds a few years previously, but this bade fair to be a far bigger
+case--one which would tax every atom of his ingenuity to uncover.
+
+"How long has this been going on?" inquired the acting Secretary of the
+Treasury.
+
+"I can't say," admitted the informant. "Neither do I care to state how I
+came into possession of these documents. But, as you will find when you
+look into the matter, they are entirely authoritative and do not refer
+to an isolated case. The _Murbar_ is the rule, not the exception. It's
+now up to you people to find out how the fraud was worked."
+
+"He's right, at that," was the comment from the acting Secretary, when
+the former sugar official had departed. "The information is undoubtedly
+the result of a personal desire to 'get even'--for our friend recently
+lost his place with the company in question. However, that hasn't the
+slightest bearing upon the truth of his charges. Carr, it's up to you to
+find out what there is in 'em!"
+
+"That's a man-sized order, Mr. Secretary," smiled Dick, "especially as
+the work I did some time ago on the sampling frauds made me about as
+popular as the plague with the sugar people. If I ever poked my nose on
+the docks at night you'd be out the price of a big bunch of white roses
+the next day!"
+
+"Which means that you don't care to handle the case?"
+
+"Not so that you could notice it!" snapped Carr. "I merely wanted you to
+realize the handicaps under which I'll be working, so that there won't
+be any demand for instant developments. This case is worth a million
+dollars if it's worth a cent. And, because it is so big, it will take a
+whole lot longer to round up the details than if we were working on a
+matter that concerned only a single individual. If you remember, it took
+Joe Gregory nearly six months to land Phyllis Dodge, and therefore--"
+
+"Therefore it ought to take about sixty years to get to the bottom of
+this case, eh?"
+
+"Hardly that long. But I would like an assurance that I can dig into
+this in my own way and that there won't be any 'Hurry up!' message sent
+from this end every week or two."
+
+"That's fair enough," agreed the Assistant Secretary. "You know the ins
+and outs of the sugar game better than any man in the service. So hop to
+it and take your time. We'll content ourselves with sitting back and
+awaiting developments."
+
+Armed with this assurance, Carr went back to New York and began
+carefully and methodically to lay his plans for the biggest game ever
+hunted by a government detective--a ring protected by millions of
+dollars in capital and haunted by the fear that its operations might
+some day be discovered.
+
+In spite of the fact that it was necessary to work entirely in the dark,
+Dick succeeded in securing the manifests and bills of lading of three
+other sugar ships which had recently been unloaded, together with copies
+of the receipts of their cargoes. Every one of these indicated the same
+mysterious shrinkage en route, amounting to about six per cent of the
+entire shipment, and, as Carr figured it, there were but two
+explanations which could cover the matter.
+
+Either a certain percentage of the sugar had been removed from the hold
+and smuggled into the country before the ship reached New York, or there
+was a conspiracy of some kind which involved a number of the weighers on
+the docks.
+
+"The first supposition," argued Carr, "is feasible but hardly within the
+bounds of probability. If the shortage had occurred in a shipment of
+gold or something else which combines high value with small volume,
+that's where I'd look for the leak. But when it comes to hundreds of
+thousands of pounds of sugar--that's something else. You can't carry
+that around in your pockets or even unload it without causing comment
+and employing so many assistants that the risk would be extremely great.
+
+"No, the answer must lie right here on the docks--just as it did in the
+sampling cases."
+
+So it was on the docks that he concentrated his efforts, working through
+the medium of a girl named Louise Wood, whom he planted as a file clerk
+and general assistant in the offices of the company which owned the
+_Murbar_ and a number of other sugar ships.
+
+This, of course, wasn't accomplished in a day, nor yet in a month. As a
+matter of fact, it was February when Carr was first assigned to the case
+and it was late in August when the Wood girl went to work. But, as Dick
+figured it, this single success was worth all the time and trouble spent
+in preparing for it.
+
+It would be hard, therefore, to give any adequate measure of his
+disappointment when the girl informed him that everything in her office
+appeared to be straight and aboveboard.
+
+"You know, Dick," reported Louise, after she had been at work for a
+couple of months, "I'm not the kind that can have the wool pulled over
+my eyes. If there was anything crooked going on, I'd spot it before
+they'd more than laid their first plans. But I've had the opportunity of
+going over the files and the records and it's all on the level."
+
+"Then how are you to account for the discrepancies between the bills of
+lading and the final receipts?" queried Carr, almost stunned by the
+girl's assurance.
+
+"That's what I don't know," she admitted. "It certainly looks queer, but
+of course it is possible that the men who ship the sugar deliberately
+falsify the records in order to get more money and that the company pays
+these statements as a sort of graft. That I can't say. It doesn't come
+under my department, as you know. Neither is it criminal. What I do know
+is that the people on the dock have nothing to do with faking the
+figures."
+
+"Sure you haven't slipped up anywhere and given them a suspicion as to
+your real work?"
+
+"Absolutely certain. I've done my work and done it well. That's what I
+was employed for and that's what's given me access to the files. But, as
+for suspicion--there hasn't been a trace of it!"
+
+It was in vain that Carr questioned and cross-questioned the girl. She
+was sure of herself and sure of her information, positive that no
+crooked work was being handled by the men who received the sugar when it
+was unloaded from the incoming ships.
+
+Puzzled by the girl's insistence and stunned by the failure of the plan
+upon which he had banked so much, Carr gave the matter up as a bad
+job--telling Louise that she could stop her work whenever she wished,
+but finally agreeing to her suggestion that she continue to hold her
+place on the bare chance of uncovering a lead.
+
+"Of course," concluded the girl, "you may be right, after all. They may
+have covered their tracks so thoroughly that I haven't been able to pick
+up the scent. I really don't believe that they have--but it's worth the
+gamble to me if it is to you."
+
+More than a month passed before the significance of this speech dawned
+upon Dick, and then only when he chanced to be walking along Fifth
+Avenue one Saturday afternoon and saw Louise coming out of Tiffany's
+with a small cubical package in her hand.
+
+"Tiffany's--" he muttered. "I wonder--"
+
+Then, entering the store, he sought out the manager and stated that he
+would like to find out what a lady, whom he described, had just
+purchased. The flash of his badge which accompanied this request turned
+the trick.
+
+"Of course, it's entirely against our rules," explained the store
+official, "but we are always glad to do anything in our power to assist
+the government. Just a moment. I'll call the clerk who waited on her."
+
+"The lady," he reported a few minutes later, "gave her name as Miss
+Louise Wood and her address as--"
+
+"I know where she lives," snapped Carr. "What did she buy?"
+
+"A diamond and platinum ring."
+
+"The price?"
+
+"Eight hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"Thanks," said the operative and was out of the office before the
+manager could frame any additional inquiries.
+
+When the Wood girl answered a rather imperative ring at the door of her
+apartment she was distinctly surprised at the identity of her caller,
+for she and Carr had agreed that it would not be wise for them to meet
+except by appointment in some out-of-the-way place.
+
+"Dick!" she exclaimed. "What brings you here? Do you think it's safe?"
+
+"Safe or not," replied the operative, entering and closing the door
+behind him. "I'm here and here I'm going to stay until I find out
+something. Where did you get the money to pay for that ring you bought
+at Tiffany's to-day?"
+
+"Money? Ring?" echoed the girl. "What are you talking about?"
+
+"You know well enough! Now don't stall. Come through! Where'd you get
+it?"
+
+"An--an aunt died and left it to me," but the girl's pale face and
+halting speech belied her words.
+
+"Try another one," sneered Carr. "Where did you get that eight hundred
+and fifty dollars?"
+
+"What business is it of yours? Can't I spend my own money in my own way
+without being trailed and hounded all over the city?"
+
+"You can spend your own money--the money you earn by working and the
+money I pay you for keeping your eyes open on the dock as you please.
+But--" and here Carr reached forward and grasped the girl's wrist,
+drawing her slowly toward him, so that her eyes looked straight into
+his, "when it comes to spending other money--money that you got for
+keeping your mouth shut and putting it over on me--that's another
+story."
+
+"I didn't, Dick; I didn't!"
+
+"Can you look me straight in the eyes and say that they haven't paid you
+for being blind? That they didn't suspect what you came to the dock
+for, and declared you in on the split? No! I didn't think you could!"
+
+With that he flung her on a couch and moved toward the door. Just as his
+hand touched the knob he heard a voice behind him, half sob and half
+plea, cry, "Dick!"
+
+Reluctantly he turned.
+
+"Dick, as there's a God in heaven I didn't mean to double cross you. But
+they were on to me from the first. They planted some stamps in my pocket
+during the first week I was there and then gave me my choice of bein'
+pulled for thieving or staying there at double pay. I didn't want to do
+it, but they had the goods on me and I had to. They said all I had to do
+was to tell you that nothing crooked was goin' on--and they'll pay me
+well for it."
+
+"While you were also drawing money from me, eh?"
+
+"Sure I was, Dick. I couldn't ask you to stop my pay. You'd have
+suspected. Besides, as soon as you were done with me, they were, too."
+
+"That's where the eight hundred and fifty dollars came from?"
+
+"Yes, and a lot more. Oh, they pay well, all right!"
+
+For fully a minute there was silence in the little apartment, broken
+only by the sobs of the girl on the couch. Finally Carr broke the
+strain.
+
+"There's only one way for you to square yourself," he announced. "Tell
+me everything you know--the truth and every word of it!"
+
+"That's just it, Dick. I don't know anything--for sure. There's
+something goin' on. No doubt of that. But what it is I don't know. They
+keep it under cover in the scale house."
+
+"In the scale house?"
+
+"Yes; they don't allow anyone in there without a permit. Somebody
+uptown tips 'em off whenever a special agent is coming down, so they can
+fix things. But none of the staff knows, though nearly all of them are
+drawin' extra money for keeping their mouths shut."
+
+"Who are the men who appear to be implicated?"
+
+"Mahoney, the checker for the company, and Derwent, the government
+weigher."
+
+"Derwent!"
+
+"Yes, he's in on it, too. I tell you, Dick, the thing's bigger than you
+ever dreamed. It's like an octopus, with tentacles that are fastened on
+everyone connected with the place."
+
+"But no clue as to the location of the body of the beast?"
+
+"Can't you guess? You know the number of their office uptown. But
+there's no use hoping to nab them. They're too well protected. I doubt
+if you can even get at the bottom of the affair on the dock."
+
+"I don't doubt it!" Carr's chin had settled itself determinedly and his
+mouth was a thin red line. "I'm going to give you a chance to redeem
+yourself. Go back to work as usual on Monday. Don't let on, by word or
+gesture, that anything has changed. Just await developments. If you'll
+do that, I'll see that you're not implicated. More than that, I'll
+acknowledge you at the proper time as my agent--planted there to double
+cross the fraud gang. You'll have your money and your glory and your
+satisfaction of having done the right thing, even though you didn't
+intend to do it. Are you on?"
+
+"I am, Dick. I won't say a word. I promise!"
+
+"Good! You'll probably see me before long. But don't recognize me.
+You'll be just one of the girls and it'll probably be necessary to
+include you in the round-up. I'll fix that later. Good-by," and with
+that he was off.
+
+Not expecting that Carr would be able to complete his plans for at least
+a week, Louise was startled when the operative arrived at the dock on
+the following Monday morning. He had spent the previous day in
+Washington, arranging details, and his appearance at the company's
+office--while apparently casual--was part of the program mapped out in
+advance. What was more, Carr had come to the dock from the station, so
+as to prevent the "inside man" from flashing a warning of his arrival.
+
+Straight through the office he strode, his right hand swinging at his
+side, his left thrust nonchalantly in the pocket of his topcoat.
+
+Before he had crossed halfway to the door of the scale room he was
+interrupted by a burly individual, who demanded his business.
+
+"I want to see Mr. Derwent or Mr. Mahoney," replied Carr.
+
+"They're both engaged at present," was the answer. "Wait here, and I'll
+tell them."
+
+"Get out of my road!" growled the operative, pulling back the lapel of
+his coat sufficiently to afford a glimpse of his badge. "I'll see them
+where they are," and before the guardian of the scale house door had
+recovered from his astonishment Carr was well across the portals.
+
+The first thing that caught his eye was the figure of a man bending over
+the weight beam of one of the big scales, while another man was making
+some adjustments on the other side of the apparatus.
+
+Derwent, who was facing the door, was the first to see Carr, but before
+he could warn his companion, the special agent was on top of them.
+
+"Who are you? What business have you in here?" demanded the government
+weigher.
+
+"Carr is my name," replied Dick. "Possibly you've heard of me. If so,
+you know my business. Catching sugar crooks!"
+
+Derwent's face went white for a moment and then flushed a deep red.
+Mahoney, however, failed to alter his position. He remained bending over
+the weight beam, his finger nails scratching at something underneath.
+
+"Straighten up there!" ordered Carr. "You--Mahoney--I mean! Straighten
+up!"
+
+"I'll see you in hell first!" snapped the other.
+
+"You'll be there soon enough if you don't get up!" was Carr's reply, as
+his left hand emerged from his coat pocket, bringing to light the
+blue-steel barrel of a forty-five. "Get--"
+
+Just at that moment, from a point somewhere near the door of the scale
+room, came a shrill, high-pitched cry--a woman's voice:
+
+"Dick!" it called. "Lookout! Jump!"
+
+Instantly, involuntarily, the operative leaped sidewise, and as he did
+so a huge bag of raw sugar crashed to the floor, striking directly on
+the spot where he had stood.
+
+"Thanks, Lou," called Carr, without turning his head. "You saved me that
+time all right! Now, gentlemen, before any more bags drop, suppose we
+adjourn uptown. We're less likely to be interrupted there," and he
+sounded a police whistle, which brought a dozen assistants on the run.
+
+"Search Mahoney," he directed. "I don't think Derwent has anything on
+him. What's that Mahoney has in his hand?"
+
+"Nothin' but a quarter, sir, an' what looks like an old wad o' chewin'
+gum."
+
+Puzzled, Carr examined the coin. Then the explanation of the whole
+affair flashed upon him as he investigated the weight-beam and found
+fragments of gum adhering to the lower part, near the free end.
+
+"So that was the trick, eh?" he inquired. "Quite a delicate bit of
+mechanism, this scale--in spite of the fact that it was designed to
+weigh tons of material. Even a quarter, gummed on to the end of the
+beam, would throw the whole thing out enough to make it well worth
+while. I think this coin and the wad of gum will make very interesting
+evidence--Exhibits A and B--at the trial, after we've rounded up the
+rest of you."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"And that," concluded Quinn, "is the story which lies behind that
+twenty-five-cent piece--probably the most valuable bit of money, judged
+from the standpoint of what it has accomplished, in the world."
+
+"Derwent and Mahoney?" I asked. "What happened to them? And did Carr
+succeed in landing the men higher up?"
+
+"Unfortunately," and Quinn smiled rather ruefully, "there is such a
+thing as the power of money. The government brought suit against the
+sugar companies implicated in the fraud and commenced criminal
+proceedings against the men directly responsible for the manipulation of
+the scales. (It developed that they had another equally lucrative method
+of using a piece of thin corset steel to alter the weights.) But the
+case was quashed upon the receipt of a check for more than two million
+dollars, covering back duties uncollected, so the personal indictments
+were allowed to lapse. It remains, however, the only investigation I
+ever heard of in which success was so signal and the amount involved so
+large.
+
+"Todd, of the Department of Justice, handled a big affair not long
+afterward, but, while some of the details were even more unusual and
+exciting, the theft was only a paltry two hundred and fifty thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Which case was that?"
+
+"The looting of the Central Trust Company," replied the former
+operative, rising and stretching himself. "Get along with you. It's time
+for me to lock up."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+"THE LOOTING OF THE C. T. C."
+
+
+There was a wintry quality in the night itself that made a comfortable
+chair and an open fire distinctly worth the payment of a luxury tax. Add
+to this the fact that the chairs in the library den of William J.
+Quinn--formerly "Bill Quinn, United States Secret Service"--were roomy
+and inviting, while the fire fairly crackled with good cheer, and you'll
+know why the conversation, after a particularly good dinner on the
+evening in question, was punctuated by pauses and liberally interlarded
+with silences.
+
+Finally, feeling that it was really necessary that I say something, I
+remarked upon the fierceness of the wind and the biting, stinging sleet
+which accompanied a typical January storm.
+
+"Makes one long for Florida," I added.
+
+"Yes," agreed Quinn, "or even some point farther south. On a night like
+this you can hardly blame a man for heading for Honduras, even if he did
+carry away a quarter of a million of the bank's deposits with him."
+
+"Huh? Who's been looting the local treasury?" I asked, thinking that I
+was on the point of getting some advance information.
+
+"No one that I know of," came from the depths of Quinn's big armchair.
+"I was just thinking of Florida and warm weather, and that naturally led
+to Honduras, which, in turn, recalled Rockwell to my mind. Ever hear of
+Rockwell?"
+
+"Don't think I ever did. What was the connection between him and the
+quarter-million you mentioned?"
+
+"Quite a bit. Rather intimate, as you might say. But not quite as much
+as he had planned. However, if it hadn't been for Todd--"
+
+"Todd?"
+
+"Yes--Ernest E. Todd, of the Department of Justice. 'Extra Ernest,' they
+used to call him, because he'd never give up a job until he brought it
+in, neatly wrapped and ready for filing. More than one man has had cause
+to believe that Todd's parents chose the right name for him. He may not
+have been much to look at--but he sure was earnest."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Take the Rockwell case, for example [Quinn went on, after a preliminary
+puff or two to see that his pipe was drawing well]. No one had the
+slightest idea that the Central Trust Company wasn't in the best of
+shape. Its books always balanced to a penny. There was never anything to
+cause the examiner to hesitate, and its officials were models of
+propriety. Particularly Rockwell, the cashier. Not only was he a pillar
+of the church, but he appeared to put his religious principles into
+practice on the other six days of the week as well. He wasn't married,
+but that only boosted his stock in the eyes of the community, many of
+which had daughters of an age when wedding bells sound very tuneful and
+orange blossoms are the sweetest flowers that grow.
+
+When they came to look into the matter later on, nobody seemed to know
+much about Mr. Rockwell's antecedents. He'd landed a minor position in
+the bank some fifteen years before and had gradually lifted himself to
+the cashiership. Seemed to have an absolute genius for detail and the
+handling of financial matters.
+
+So it was that when Todd went back home on a vacation and happened to
+launch some of his ideas on criminology--ideas founded on an intensive
+study of Lombroso and other experts--he quickly got himself into deep
+water.
+
+During the course of a dinner at one of the hotels, "E. E." commenced to
+expound certain theories relating to crime and the physical appearance
+of the criminal.
+
+"Do you know," he inquired, "that it's the simplest thing in the world
+to tell whether a man--or even a boy, for that matter--has criminal
+tendencies? There are certain unmistakable physical details that point
+unerringly to what the world might call 'laxity of conscience,' but
+which is nothing less than a predisposition to evil, a tendency to
+crime. The lobes of the ears, the height and shape of the forehead, the
+length of the little finger, the contour of the hand--all these are of
+immense value in determining whether a man will go straight or crooked.
+Employers are using them more and more every day. The old-fashioned
+phrenologist, with his half-formed theories and wild guesses, has been
+displaced by the modern student of character, who relies upon certain
+rules which vary so little as to be practically immutable."
+
+"Do you mean to say," asked one of the men at the table, "that you can
+tell that a man is a criminal simply by looking at him?"
+
+"If that's the case," cut in another, "why don't you lock 'em all up?"
+
+"But it isn't the case," was Todd's reply. "The physical characteristics
+to which I refer only mean that a man is likely to develop along the
+wrong lines. They are like the stars which, as Shakespeare remarked,
+'incline, but do not compel.' If you remember, he added, 'The fault,
+dear Brutus, lies in ourselves.' Therefore, if a detective of the modern
+school is working on a case and he comes across a man who bears one or
+more of these very certain brands of Cain, he watches that man very
+carefully--at least until he is convinced that he is innocent. You can't
+arrest a man simply because he looks like a crook, but it is amazing how
+often the guideposts point in the right direction."
+
+"Anyone present that you suspect of forgery or beating his wife?" came
+in a bantering voice from the other end of the table.
+
+"If you're in earnest," answered the government agent, "lay your hands
+on the table."
+
+And everyone present, including Rockwell, cashier of the Central Trust
+Company, placed his hands, palm upward, on the cloth--though there was a
+distinct hesitation in several quarters.
+
+Slowly, deliberately, Todd looked around the circle of hands before him.
+Then, with quite as much precision, he scanned the faces and
+particularly the ears of his associates. Only once did his gaze hesitate
+longer than usual, and then not for a sufficient length of time to make
+it apparent.
+
+"No," he finally said. "I'd give every one of you a clean bill of
+health. Apparently you're all right. But," and he laughed, "remember, I
+said 'apparently.' So don't blame me if there's a murder committed
+before morning and one or more of you is arrested for it!"
+
+That was all there was to the matter until Todd, accompanied by two of
+his older friends, left the grill and started to walk home.
+
+"That was an interesting theory of yours," commented one of the men,
+"but wasn't it only a theory? Is there any real foundation of fact?"
+
+"You mean my statement that you can tell by the shape of a man's head
+and hands whether he has a predisposition to crime?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's far from a theory, inasmuch as it has the support of hundreds of
+cases which are on record. Besides, I had a purpose in springing it when
+I did. In fact, it partook of the nature of an experiment."
+
+"You mean you suspected some one present--"
+
+"Not suspected, but merely wondered if he would submit to the test. I
+knew that one of the men at the table would call for it. Some one in a
+crowd always does--and I had already noted a startling peculiarity about
+the forehead, nose, and ears of a certain dinner companion. I merely
+wanted to find out if he had the nerve to withstand my inspection of his
+hands. I must say that he did, without flinching."
+
+"But who was the man?"
+
+"I barely caught his name," replied Todd, "and this conversation must be
+in strict confidence. After all, criminologists do not maintain that
+every man who looks like a crook is one. They simply state and prove
+that ninety-five per cent of the deliberate criminals, men who plan
+their wrong well in advance, bear these marks. And the man who sat
+across the table from me to-night has them, to an amazing degree."
+
+"Across the table from you? Why that was Rockwell, cashier of the
+Central Trust!"
+
+"Precisely," stated Todd, "and the only reason that I am making this
+admission is because I happen to know that both of you bank there."
+
+"But," protested one of the other men, "Rockwell has been with them for
+years. He's worked himself up from the very bottom and had hundreds of
+chances to make away with money if he wanted to. He's as straight as a
+die."
+
+"Very possibly he is," Todd agreed. "That's the reason that I warn you
+that what I said was in strict confidence. Neither one of you is to say
+a word that would cast suspicion on Rockwell. It would be fatal to his
+career. On the other hand, I wanted to give you the benefit of my
+judgment, which, if you remember, you requested."
+
+But it didn't take a character analyst to see that the Department of
+Justice man had put his foot in it, so far as his friends were
+concerned. They were convinced of the cashier's honesty and no theories
+founded on purely physical attributes could swerve them. They kept the
+conversation to themselves, but Todd left town feeling that he had lost
+the confidence of two of his former friends.
+
+It was about a month later that he ran into Weldon, the Federal Bank
+Examiner for that section of the country, and managed to make a few
+discreet inquiries about Rockwell and the Central Trust Company without,
+however, obtaining even a nibble.
+
+"Everything's flourishing," was the verdict. "Accounts straight as a
+string and they appear to be doing an excellent business. Fairly heavy
+on notes, it's true, but they're all well indorsed. Why'd you ask? Any
+reason to suspect anyone?"
+
+"Not the least," lied Todd. "It's my home town, you know, and I know a
+lot of people who bank at the C. T. C. Just like to keep in touch with
+how things are going. By the way, when do you plan to make your next
+inspection?"
+
+"Think I'll probably be in there next Wednesday. Want me to say 'Hello'
+to anybody?"
+
+"No, I'm not popular in certain quarters," Todd laughed. "They say I
+have too many theories--go off half cocked and all that sort of thing."
+
+Nevertheless the Department of Justice operative arranged matters so
+that he reached his home city on Tuesday of the following week,
+discovering, by judicious inquiries, that the visit of the examiner had
+not been forecast. In fact, he wasn't expected for a month or more. But
+that's the way it is best to work. If bank officials know when to look
+out for an examiner, they can often fix things on their books which
+would not bear immediate inspection.
+
+Weldon arrived on schedule early the following morning, and commenced
+his examination of the accounts of the First National, as was his habit.
+
+As soon as Todd knew that he was in town he took up his position outside
+the offices of the Central Trust, selecting a vantage point which would
+give him a clear view of both entrances of the bank.
+
+"Possibly," he argued to himself, "I am a damn fool. But just the same,
+I have a mighty well-defined hunch that Mr. Rockwell isn't on the level,
+and I ought to find out pretty soon."
+
+Then events began to move even quicker than he had hoped.
+
+The first thing he noted was that Jafferay, one of the bookkeepers of
+the C. T. C., slipped out of a side door of the bank and dropped a
+parcel into the mail box which stood beside the entrance. Then, a few
+minutes later, a messenger came out and made his way up the street to
+the State National, where--as Todd, who was on his heels--had little
+trouble in discovering--he cashed a cashier's check for one hundred and
+fifty thousand dollars, returning to the Central Trust Company with the
+money in his valise.
+
+"Of course," Todd reasoned, "Rockwell may be ignorant of the fact that
+Weldon doesn't usually get around to the State National until he has
+inspected all the other banks. Hence the check will have already gone to
+the clearing house and will appear on the books merely as an item of one
+hundred and fifty thousand dollars due, rather than as a check from the
+Central Trust. Yes, he may be ignorant of the fact--but it does look
+funny. Wonder what that bookkeeper mailed?"
+
+Working along the last line of reasoning, the government operative
+stopped at the post office long enough to introduce himself to the
+postmaster, present his credentials, and inquire if the mail from the
+box outside the Central Trust Company had yet been collected. Learning
+that it had, he asked permission to inspect it.
+
+"You can look it over if you wish," stated the postmaster, "but, of
+course, I have no authority to allow you to open any of it. Even the
+Postmaster-General himself couldn't do that."
+
+"Certainly," agreed Todd. "I merely want to see the address on a certain
+parcel and I'll make affidavit, if you wish, that I have reason to
+suppose that the mails are being used for illegal purposes."
+
+"That won't be necessary. We'll step down to the parcel room and soon
+find out what you want."
+
+Some five minutes later Todd learned that the parcel which he
+recognized--a long roll covered with wrapping paper, so that it was
+impossible to gain even an idea of what it contained--was addressed to
+Jafferay, the bookkeeper, at his home address.
+
+"Thanks! Now if you can give me some idea of when this'll be delivered I
+won't bother you any more. About five o'clock this afternoon? Fine!" and
+the man from Washington was out of the post office before anyone could
+inquire further concerning his mission.
+
+A telephone call disclosed the fact that Weldon was then making his
+examination of the Central Trust Company books and could not be
+disturbed, but Todd managed to get him later in the afternoon and made
+an appointment for dinner, on the plea of official business which he
+wished to discuss.
+
+That afternoon he paid a visit to the house of a certain Mr. Jafferay
+and spent an hour in a vain attempt to locate the bank examiner.
+
+Promptly at six o'clock that official walked into Todd's room at the
+hotel, to find the operative pacing restlessly up and down, visibly
+excited and clutching what appeared to be a roll of paper.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Weldon. "I'm on time. Didn't keep you waiting
+a minute?"
+
+"No!" snapped Todd, "but where have you been for the last hour? Been
+trying to reach you all over town."
+
+"Great Scott! man, even a human adding machine has a right to take a
+little rest now and then. If you must know, I've been getting a shave
+and a haircut. Anything criminal in that?"
+
+"Can't say that there is," and Todd relaxed enough to smile at his
+vehemence. "But there is in this," unrolling the parcel that he still
+held and presenting several large sheets of ruled paper for the
+examiner's attention. "Recognise them?"
+
+"They appear to be loose leaves from the ledgers at the Central Trust
+Company."
+
+"Precisely. Were they there when you went over the books this morning?"
+
+"I don't recall them, but it's possible they may have been."
+
+"No--they weren't. One of the bookkeepers mailed them to himself, at his
+home address, while you were still at the First National. If I hadn't
+visited his house this afternoon, in the guise of a book agent, and
+taken a long chance by lifting this roll of paper, he'd have slipped
+them back in place in the morning and nobody'd been any the wiser."
+
+"Then you mean that the bookkeeper is responsible for falsifying the
+accounts?"
+
+"Only partially. Was the cash O. K. at the Central Trust?"
+
+"Perfectly."
+
+"Do you recall any record of a check for one hundred and fifty thousand
+dollars upon the State National drawn and cashed this morning?"
+
+"No, there was no such check."
+
+"Yes, there was. I was present when the messenger cashed it and he took
+the money back to the C. T. C. They knew you wouldn't get around to the
+State before morning, and by that time the check would have gone to the
+clearing house, giving them plenty of time to make the cash balance to a
+penny."
+
+"Whom do you suspect of manipulating the funds?"
+
+"The man who signed the check--Rockwell, the cashier! That's why I was
+trying to get hold of you. I haven't the authority to demand admittance
+to the Central Trust vaults, but you have. Then, if matters are as I
+figure them, I'll take charge of the case as an agent of the Department
+of Justice."
+
+"Come on!" was Weldon's response. "We'll get up there right away, No use
+losing time over it!"
+
+At the bank, however, they were told that the combination to the vault
+was known to only three persons--the president of the bank, Rockwell,
+and the assistant cashier. The president, it developed, was out of
+town. Rockwell's house failed to answer the phone, and it was a good
+half hour before the assistant cashier put in an appearance.
+
+When, in compliance with Weldon's orders, he swung back the heavy doors
+which guarded the vault where the currency was stored, he swung around,
+amazed.
+
+"It's empty!" he whispered. "Not a thing there save the bags of coin.
+Why, I put some two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in paper money in
+there myself this afternoon!"
+
+"Who was here at the time?" demanded Todd.
+
+"Only Mr. Rockwell. I remember distinctly that he said he would have to
+work a little longer, but that there wouldn't be any necessity for my
+staying. So I put the money in there, locked the door, and went on
+home."
+
+"Do you know where Rockwell is now?"
+
+"At his house, I suppose. He lives at--"
+
+"I know where he lives," snapped Todd. "I also know that he isn't there.
+I've had the place watched since five o'clock this afternoon--but
+Rockwell hasn't shown up. Like the money--I think we can say 'with the
+money'--he's gone, disappeared, vanished."
+
+"Then," said Weldon, "it is up to you to find him. My part of the job
+ceased the moment the shortage was disclosed."
+
+"I know that and if you'll attend to making a report on the matter,
+order the arrest of Jafferay, and spread the report of Rockwell's
+embezzlement through police circles, I'll get busy on my own hook.
+Good-by." And an instant later Todd was hailing a taxi and ordering the
+chauffeur to break all the speed laws in reaching the house where
+Rockwell boarded.
+
+Examination of the cashier's room and an extended talk with the
+landlady failed, however, to disclose anything which might be termed a
+clue. The missing official had visited the house shortly after noon, but
+had not come back since the bank closed. He had not taken a valise or
+suit case with him, declared the mistress of the house, but he had seemed
+"just a leetle bit upset."
+
+Quickly, but efficiently, Todd examined the room--even inspecting the
+bits of paper in the wastebasket and pawing over the books which lined
+the mantel. Three of the former he slipped into his pocket and then,
+turning, inquired:
+
+"Was Mr. Rockwell fond of cold weather?"
+
+"No, indeed," was the reply. "He hated winter. Said he never was
+comfortable from November until May. He always--"
+
+But the "queer gentleman," as the landlady afterward referred to him,
+was out of the house before she could detail her pet story of the
+cashier's fondness for heat, no matter at what cost.
+
+No one at the station had seen Rockwell board a train, but inquiry at
+the taxicab offices revealed the fact that a man, with his overcoat
+collar turned up until it almost met his hat brim, had taken a cab for a
+near-by town, where it would be easy for him to make connections either
+north or south.
+
+Stopping only to wire Washington the bare outline of the case, with the
+suggestion that the Canadian border be watched, "though it is almost
+certain that Rockwell is headed south," Todd picked up the trail at the
+railroad ticket office, some ten miles distant, and found that a man
+answering to the description of his prey had bought passage as far as
+St. Louis. But, despite telegraphic instructions, the Saint Louis police
+were unable to apprehend anyone who looked like Rockwell and the
+government operative kept right on down the river, stopping at Memphis
+to file a message to the authorities in New Orleans.
+
+It was precisely a week after the looting of the Central Trust Company
+that Todd stood on the docks in New Orleans, watching the arrival of the
+passengers and baggage destined to go aboard the boat for Honduras.
+Singly and in groups they arrived until, when the "all ashore" signal
+sounded, the operative began to wonder if he were really on the right
+trail. Then, at the last minute, a cab drove up and a woman, apparently
+suffering from rheumatism, made her way toward the boat. Scenting a tip,
+two stewards sprang to assist her, but Todd beat them to it.
+
+"Pardon me, madam," he said, "may I not--Drat that fly!" and with that
+he made a pass at something in front of his face and accidentally
+brushed aside the veil which hid the woman's face.
+
+He had barely time to realize that, as he had suspected, it was
+Rockwell, disguised, before the "woman" had slipped out of the light
+wrap which she had been wearing and was giving him what he later
+admitted was the "scrap of his life." In fact, for several moments he
+not only had to fight Rockwell, but several bystanders as well--for they
+had only witnessed what they supposed was a totally uncalled for attack
+upon a woman. In the mixup that followed Rockwell managed to slip away
+and, before Todd had a chance to recover, was halfway across the street,
+headed for the entrance to a collection of shanties which provided an
+excellent hiding place.
+
+Tearing himself loose, Todd whipped out his revolver and fired at the
+figure just visible in the gathering dusk, scoring a clean shot just
+above the ankle--a flesh wound, that ripped the leg muscles without
+breaking a bone. With a groan of despair Rockwell toppled over, clawing
+wildly in an attempt to reach his revolver. But Todd was on top of him
+before the cashier could swing the gun into action, and a pair of
+handcuffs finished the career of the man who had planned to loot the C.
+T. C. of a quarter million in cold cash.
+
+"The next time you try a trick like that," Todd advised him, on the
+train that night, "be careful what you leave behind in your room. The
+two torn letterheads of the Canadian Pacific nearly misled me, but the
+other one referring to the Honduran line, plus the book on Honduras and
+the fact that your landlady stated that you hated cold weather, gave you
+dead away. Of course, even without that, it was a toss-up between Canada
+and Central America. Those are the only two places where an embezzler is
+comparatively safe these days. I hope, for the sake of your comfort,
+they give you plenty of blankets in Joliet."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Quinn paused a moment to repack his pipe, and then, "So far as I know,
+he's still handling the prison finances," he added. "Yes--they found at
+the trial that he had had a clean record up to the moment he slipped,
+but the criminal tendencies were there and he wasn't able to resist
+temptation. He had speculated with the bank funds, covered his shortages
+by removing the pages from the ledger and kiting checks through the
+State National, and then determined to risk everything in one grand
+clean-up.
+
+"He might have gotten away with it, too, if Todd hadn't spotted the
+peculiarities which indicated moral weakness. However, you can't always
+tell. No one who knew Mrs. Armitage would have dreamed that she
+was--what she was."
+
+"Well," I inquired, "what was she?"
+
+"That's what puzzled Washington and the State Department for several
+months," replied Quinn. "It's too long a story to spin to-night. That's
+her picture up there, if you care to study her features."
+
+And I went home wondering what were the crimes of which such a beautiful
+woman could have been guilty.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+THE CASE OF MRS. ARMITAGE
+
+
+To look at him no one would have thought that Bill Quinn had a trace of
+sentiment in his make-up. Apparently he was just the grizzled old
+veteran of a hundred battles with crime, the last of which--a raid on a
+counterfeiter's den in Long Island--had laid him up with a game leg and
+a soft berth in the Treasury Department, where, for years he had been an
+integral part of the United States Secret Service.
+
+But in the place of honor in Quinn's library-den there hung the
+photograph of a stunningly handsome woman, her sable coat thrown back
+just enough to afford a glimpse of a throat of which Juno might have
+been proud, while in her eyes there sparkled a light which seemed to
+hint at much but reveal little. It was very evident that she belonged to
+a world entirely apart from that of Quinn, yet the very fact that her
+photograph adorned the walls of his den proved that she had been
+implicated in some case which had necessitated Secret Service
+investigation--for the den was the shrine of relics relating to cases in
+which Quinn's friends had figured.
+
+Finally, one evening I gathered courage to inquire about her.
+
+"Armitage was her name," Quinn replied. "Lelia Armitage. At least that
+was the name she was known by in Washington, and even the investigations
+which followed Melville Taylor's exposure of her foreign connections
+failed to reveal that she had been known by any other, save her maiden
+name of Lawrence."
+
+"Where is she now?" I asked.
+
+"You'll have to ask me something easier," and Quinn smiled, a trifle
+wistfully, I thought. "Possibly in London, perhaps in Paris, maybe in
+Rio or the Far East. But wherever she is, the center of attention is not
+very far away from her big violet-black eyes. Also the police of the
+country where she is residing probably wish that they had never been
+burdened with her."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"That she was a crook? Not as the word is usually understood. But more
+than one string of valuable pearls or diamonds has disappeared when
+milady Armitage was in the neighborhood--though they were never able to
+prove that she had lifted a thing. No, her principal escapade in this
+country brought her into contact with the Secret Service, rather than
+the police officials--which is probably the reason she was nailed with
+the goods. You remember the incident of the 'leak' in the peace note,
+when certain Wall Street interests cleaned up millions of dollars?"
+
+"Perfectly. Was she to blame for that?"
+
+"They never settled who was to blame for it, but Mrs. Armitage was
+dealing through a young and decidedly attractive Washington broker at
+the time and her account mysteriously multiplied itself half a dozen
+times.
+
+"Then there was the affair of the Carruthers Code, the one which
+ultimately led to her exposure at the hands of Taylor and Madelaine
+James."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Carruthers Code [Quinn went on] was admittedly the cleverest and yet
+the simplest system of cipher communication ever devised on this side
+of the Atlantic, with the possible exception of the one mentioned in
+Jules Verne's "Giant Raft"--the one that Dr. Heinrich Albert used with
+such success. Come to think of it, Verne wasn't an American, was he? He
+ought to have been, though. He invented like one.
+
+In some ways the Carruthers system was even more efficient than the
+Verne cipher. You could use it with less difficulty, for one thing, and
+the key was susceptible of an almost infinite number of variations. Its
+only weakness lay in the fact that the secret had to be written
+down--and it was in connection with the slip of paper which contained
+this that Mrs. Armitage came into prominence.
+
+For some two years Lelia Armitage had maintained a large and expensive
+establishment on Massachusetts Avenue, not far from Sheridan Circle.
+Those who claimed to know stated that there had been a Mr. Armitage, but
+that he had died, leaving his widow enough to make her luxuriously
+comfortable for the remainder of her life. In spite of the incidents of
+the jeweled necklaces, no one took the trouble to inquire into Mrs.
+Armitage's past until the leak in connection with the peace note and the
+subsequent investigation of Paul Connor's brokerage house led to the
+discovery that her name was among those who had benefited most largely
+by the advance information.
+
+It was at that time that Melville Taylor was detailed to dig back into
+her history and see what he could discover. As was only natural, he went
+at once to Madelaine James, who had been of assistance to the Service in
+more than one Washington case which demanded feminine finesse, plus an
+intimate knowledge of social life in the national capital.
+
+"Madelaine," he inquired, "what do you know of a certain Mrs. Lelia
+Armitage?"
+
+"Nothing particularly--except that one sees her everywhere. Apparently
+has plenty of money. Supposed to have gotten it from her husband, who
+has been dead for some time. Dresses daringly but expensively,
+and--while there are at least a score of men, ranging all the way from
+lieutenants in the army to captains of industry, who would like to marry
+her--she has successfully evaded scandal and almost gotten away from
+gossip."
+
+"Where'd she come from?"
+
+"London, I believe, by way of New York. Maiden name was Lawrence and the
+late but not very lamented Mr. Armitage was reputed to have made his
+money in South Africa."
+
+"All of which," commented Taylor, "is rather vague--particularly for
+purposes of a detailed report."
+
+"Report? In what connection?"
+
+"Her name appears on the list of Connor's clients as one of the ones who
+cleaned up on the 'leak.' Sold short and made a barrel of money when
+stocks came down. The question is, Where did she get the tip?"
+
+"Possibly from Paul Connor himself."
+
+"Possibly--but I wish you'd cultivate her acquaintance and see if you
+can pick up anything that would put us on the right track."
+
+But some six weeks later when Taylor was called upon to make a report of
+his investigations he had to admit that the sheet was a blank.
+
+"Chief," he said, "either the Armitage woman is perfectly innocent or
+else she's infernally clever. I've pumped everyone dry about her, and a
+certain friend of mine, whom you know, has made a point of getting next
+to the lady herself. She's dined there a couple of times and has talked
+to her at a dozen teas and receptions. But without success. Mrs.
+Armitage has been very frank and open about what she calls her 'good
+fortune' on the stock market. Says she followed her intuition and sold
+short when everyone else was buying. What's more, she says it with such
+a look of frank honesty that, according to Madelaine, you almost have to
+believe her."
+
+"Has Miss James been able to discover anything of the lady's past
+history?"
+
+"Nothing more than we already know--born in England--husband made a
+fortune in South Africa--died and left it to her. Have you tried tracing
+her from the other side?"
+
+"Yes, but they merely disclaim all knowledge of her. Don't even
+recognize the description. That may mean anything. Well," and chief
+sighed rather disconsolately, for the leak puzzle had been a knotty one
+from the start, "I guess we'd better drop her. Too many other things
+going on to worry about a woman whose only offense seems to be an
+intuitive knowledge of the way Wall Street's going to jump."
+
+It was at that moment that Mahoney, assistant to the chief, came in with
+the information that the Secretary of State desired the presence of the
+head of the Secret Service in his office immediately.
+
+In answer to a snapped, "Come along--this may be something that you can
+take care of right away!" Taylor followed the chief to the State
+Department, where they were soon closeted with one of the under
+secretaries.
+
+"You are familiar with the Carruthers Code?" inquired the Assistant
+Secretary.
+
+"I know the principle on which it operates," the chief replied, "but I
+can't say that I've ever come into contact with it."
+
+"So far as we know," went on the State Department official, "it is the
+most efficient cipher system in the world--simple, easy to operate,
+almost impossible to decode without the key, and susceptible of being
+changed every day, or every hour if necessary, without impairing its
+value. However, in common with every other code, it has this
+weakness--once the key is located the entire system is practically
+valueless.
+
+"When did you discover the disappearance of the code secret?" asked
+Taylor, examining his cigarette with an exaggerated display of interest.
+
+"How did you know it was lost?" demanded the Under Secretary.
+
+"I didn't--but the fact that your chief sent for mine and then you
+launch into a dissertation on the subject of the code itself is open to
+but one construction--some one has lifted the key to the cipher."
+
+"Yes, some one has. At least, it was in this safe last night"--here a
+wave of his hand indicated a small and rather old-fashioned strong box
+in the corner--"and it wasn't there when I arrived this morning. I
+reported the matter to the Secretary and he asked me to give you the
+details."
+
+"You are certain that the cipher was there last evening?" asked the
+chief.
+
+"Not the cipher itself--at least not a code-book as the term is
+generally understood," explained the Under Secretary. "That's one of the
+beauties of the Carruthers system. You don't have to lug a bulky book
+around with you all the time. A single slip of paper--a cigarette paper
+would answer excellently--will contain the data covering a man's
+individual code. The loss or theft of one of these would be
+inconvenient, but not fatal. The loss of the master key, which was in
+that safe, is irreparable. If it once gets out of the country it means
+that the decoding of our official messages is merely a question of time,
+no matter how often we switch the individual ciphers."
+
+"What was the size of the master key, as you call it?"
+
+"Merely a slip of government bond, about six inches long by some two
+inches deep."
+
+"Was it of such a nature that it could have been easily copied?"
+
+"Yes, but anything other than a careful tracing or a photographic copy
+would be valueless. The position of the letters and figures mean as much
+as the marks themselves. Whoever took it undoubtedly knows this and will
+endeavor to deliver the original--as a mark of good faith, if nothing
+else."
+
+"Was this the only copy in existence?"
+
+"There are two others--one in the possession of the Secretary, the other
+in the section which has charge of decoding messages. Both of these are
+safe, as I ascertained as soon as I discovered that my slip was
+missing."
+
+A few more questions failed to bring out anything more about the mystery
+beyond the fact that the Assistant Secretary was certain that he had
+locked the safe the evening before and he knew that he had found it
+locked when he arrived that morning.
+
+"All of which," as Taylor declared, "means but little. The safe is of
+the vintage of eighteen seventy, the old-fashioned kind where you can
+hear the tumblers drop clean across the room. Look!" and he pointed to
+the japanned front of the safe where a circular mark, some two inches in
+diameter, was visible close to the dial.
+
+"Yes, but what is it?" demanded the Secretary.
+
+"The proof that you locked the safe last night," Taylor responded.
+"Whoever abstracted the cipher key opened the safe with the aid of some
+instrument that enabled them clearly to detect the fall of the tumblers.
+Probably a stethoscope, such as physicians use for listening to a
+patient's heart. Perfectly simple when you know how--particularly with
+an old model like this."
+
+Finding that there was no further information available, Taylor and the
+chief left the department, the chief to return to headquarters, Taylor
+to endeavor to pick up the trail wherever he could.
+
+"It doesn't look like an inside job," was the parting comment of the
+head of the Secret Service. "Anyone who had access to the safe would
+have made some excuse to discover the combination, rather than rely on
+listening to the click of the tumblers. Better get after the night
+watchman and see if he can give you a line on any strangers who were
+around the building last night."
+
+But the night watchman when roused from his sound forenoon's sleep was
+certain that no one had entered the building on the previous evening
+save those who had business there.
+
+"Everybody's got to use a pass now, you know," he stated. "I was on the
+job all night myself an' divvle a bit of anything out of the ordinary
+did I see. There was Mr. McNight and Mr. Lester and Mr. Greene on the
+job in the telegraph room, and the usual crowd of correspondents over in
+the press room, and a score of others who works there regular, an' Mrs.
+Prentice, an'--"
+
+"Mrs. who?" interrupted Taylor.
+
+"Mrs. Prentice, wife of th' Third Assistant Secretary. She comes down
+often when her husband is working late, but last night he must have gone
+home just before she got there, for she came back a few minutes later
+and said that the office was dark."
+
+Whatever Taylor's thoughts were at the moment he kept them to
+himself--for Prentice was the man from whose safe the cipher key had
+been abstracted!
+
+So he contented himself with inquiring whether the watchman was certain
+that the woman who entered the building was Mrs. Prentice.
+
+"Shure an' I'm certain," was the reply. "I've seen her and that green
+evening cape of hers trimmed with fur too often not to know her."
+
+"Do you know how long it was between the time that she entered the
+building and the time she left?" persisted Taylor.
+
+"That I do not, sir. Time is something that you don't worry about much
+when it's a matter of guarding the door to a building--particularly at
+night. But I'd guess somewhere about five or ten minutes?"
+
+"Rather long for her to make her way to the office of her husband, find
+he wasn't there, and come right back, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, sir--but you must remember I wasn't countin' the minutes, so to
+speak. Maybe it was only three--maybe it was ten. Anyhow, it was just
+nine-thirty when she left. I remember looking at the clock when she went
+out."
+
+From the watchman's house, located well over in the northeastern section
+of the city, Taylor made his way to Madelaine James's apartment on
+Connecticut Avenue, discovering that young lady on the point of setting
+off to keep a luncheon engagement.
+
+"I won't keep you a minute, Madelaine," promised the Secret Service
+operative. "Just want to ask what you know about Mrs. Mahlon Prentice?"
+
+"Wife of the Third Assistant Secretary of State?"
+
+Taylor nodded.
+
+"She's a Chicago woman, I believe. Came here a couple of years ago when
+her husband received his appointment. Rather good-looking and very
+popular. I happened to be at a dinner with her last evening and--"
+
+"You what?"
+
+"I was at a dinner at the Westovers' last night," repeated the James
+girl, "and Mrs. Prentice was among those present. Looked stunning, too.
+What's the trouble?"
+
+"What time was the dinner?" Taylor countered.
+
+"Eight o'clock, but of course it didn't start until nearly
+eight-thirty."
+
+"And what time did Mrs. Prentice leave?"
+
+"A few minutes after I did. She was just going up for her wraps as I
+came downstairs at eleven o'clock."
+
+"You are certain that she was there all evening--that she didn't slip
+out for half an hour or so?"
+
+"Of course I'm sure, Mell," the girl replied, a trace of petulance in
+her voice. "Why all the questions? Do you suspect the wife of the Third
+Assistant Secretary of State of robbing a bank?"
+
+"Not a bank," Taylor admitted, "but it happens that the safe in her
+husband's office was opened last night and a highly important slip of
+paper abstracted. What's more, the watchman on duty in the building is
+ready to swear that Mrs. Prentice came in shortly before nine-thirty,
+and went out some five or ten minutes later, stating that her husband
+had evidently finished his work and left."
+
+"That's impossible! No matter what the watchman says, there are a score
+of people who dined with Mrs. Prentice last evening and who know that
+she didn't leave the Westovers' until after eleven. Dinner wasn't over
+by nine-thirty, and she couldn't have gotten to the State Department and
+back in less than twenty minutes at the inside. It's ridiculous, that's
+all!"
+
+"But the watchman!" exclaimed Taylor. "He knows Mrs. Prentice and says
+he couldn't miss that green-and-fur coat of hers in the dark. Besides,
+she spoke to him as she was leaving."
+
+Madelaine James was silent for a moment, and a tiny frown appeared
+between her eyes, evidence of the fact that she was doing some deep
+thinking.
+
+Then: "Of course she spoke! Anyone who would go to the trouble of
+copying Mrs. Prentice's distinctive cloak would realize that some
+additional disguise was necessary. Last night, if you remember, was
+quite cold. Therefore it would be quite natural that the woman who
+impersonated Mrs. Prentice should have her collar turned up around her
+face and probably a drooping hat as well. The collar, in addition to
+concealing her features, would muffle her voice, while the watchman, not
+suspecting anything, would take it for granted that the green cloak was
+worn by the wife of the Under Secretary--particularly when she spoke to
+him in passing."
+
+"You mean, then, that some one deliberately impersonated Mrs. Prentice
+and took a chance on getting past the watchman merely because she wore a
+cloak of the same color?"
+
+"The same color--the same style--practically the same coat," argued Miss
+James. "What's more, any woman who would have the nerve to try that
+would probably watch Prentice's office from the outside, wait for the
+light to go out, and then stage her visit not more than five minutes
+later, so's to make it appear plausible. How was the safe opened?"
+
+"Stethoscope. Placed the cup on the outside, and then listened to the
+tumblers as they fell. Simplest thing in the world with an antiquated
+box like that."
+
+"What's missing?"
+
+By this time Taylor felt that their positions had been reversed. He, who
+had come to question, was now on the witness stand, while Madelaine
+James was doing the cross-examining. But he didn't mind. He knew the way
+the girl's mind worked, quickly and almost infallibly--her knowledge of
+women in general and Washington society in particular making her an
+invaluable ally in a case like this.
+
+"A slip of paper some six inches long and two inches wide," he said,
+with a smile. "The key to the Carruthers Code, probably the most
+efficient cipher in the world, but now rendered worthless unless the
+original slip is located before it reaches some foreign power."
+
+"Right!" snapped Miss James. "Get busy on your end of the matter. See
+what you can find out concerning this mysterious woman in the green
+cloak. I'll work along other and what you would probably call strictly
+unethical lines. I've got what a man would term a 'hunch,' but in a
+woman it is 'intuition'--and therefore far more likely to be right. See
+you later!" and with that she was off toward her car.
+
+"But what about your luncheon engagement?" Taylor called after her.
+
+"Bother lunch," she laughed back over her shoulder. "If my hunch is
+right I'll make your chief pay for my meals for the next year!"
+
+The next that Taylor heard from his ally was a telephone call on the
+following evening, instructing him to dig up his evening clothes and to
+be present at a certain reception that evening.
+
+"I have reason to believe," said Madelaine's voice, "that the lady of
+the second green cloak will be present. Anyhow, there'll be several of
+your friends there--including myself, Mrs. Armitage, and an ambassador
+who doesn't stand any too well with the Administration. In fact, I have
+it on good authority that he's on the verge of being recalled. Naturally
+we don't want him to take a slip of paper, some six inches by two, with
+him!"
+
+"How do you know he hasn't it already?"
+
+"He doesn't return from New York until six o'clock this evening, and the
+paper is far too valuable to intrust to the mails or to an underling.
+Remember, I'm not certain that it is he who is supposed to get the paper
+eventually, but I do know who impersonated Mrs. Prentice, and I likewise
+know that the lady in question has not communicated with any foreign
+official in person. Beyond that we'll have to take a chance on the
+evening's developments," and the receiver was replaced before Taylor
+could frame any one of the score of questions he wanted to ask.
+
+Even at the reception that night he was unable to get hold of Madelaine
+James long enough to find out just what she did know. In fact, it was
+nearly midnight before he caught the signal that caused him to enter one
+of the smaller and rather secluded rooms apart from the main hall.
+
+There he found a tableau that was totally unexpected.
+
+In one corner of the room, her back against the wall and her teeth bared
+in a snarl which distorted her usually attractive features into a mask
+of hate, stood Mrs. Armitage. Her hands were crossed in front of her in
+what appeared to be an unnatural attitude until Taylor caught a glimpse
+of polished steel and realized that the woman had been handcuffed.
+
+"There," announced Madelaine, "in spite of your friend the watchman,
+stands 'Mrs. Prentice.' You'll find the green cloak in one of the
+closets at her home, and the stethoscope is probably concealed somewhere
+around the house. However, that doesn't matter. The main thing is that
+we have discovered the missing slip of paper. You'll find it on the
+table over there."
+
+Taylor followed the girl's gesture toward a table at the side of the
+room. But there, instead of the cipher key that he had expected, he saw
+only--a gold bracelet!
+
+"What's the idea?" he demanded. "Where's the paper?"
+
+"Snap open the bracelet," directed the girl. "What do you see?"
+
+"It looks like--by gad! it is!--a tightly wrapped spindle of paper!" and
+a moment later the original of the Carruthers Code reposed safely in the
+Secret Service agent's vest pocket. As he tossed the empty bracelet back
+on the table he heard a sound behind him and turned just in time to see
+the woman in the corner slip to the floor in a dead faint.
+
+"Now that we've got her," inquired Madelaine James, "what'll we do with
+her?"
+
+"Take off the handcuffs, leave the room, and close the door," directed
+Taylor. "She'll hardly care to make any fuss when she comes to, and the
+fact that she is unconscious gives us an excellent opportunity for
+departing without a scene."
+
+"But what I'd like to know," he asked, as they strolled back toward the
+main ballroom, "is how you engineered the affair?"
+
+"I told you I had an intuition," came the reply, "and you laughed at me.
+Yes you did, too! It wasn't apparent on your face, but I could feel that
+inside yourself you were saying, 'Just another fool idea.' But Mrs.
+Armitage was preying on my mind. I didn't like the way she had slipped
+one over on us in connection with the leak on the peace note. Then, too,
+she seemed to have no visible means of support, but plenty of money.
+
+"I felt certain that she wasn't guilty of blackmail or any of the more
+sordid kinds of crime, but the fact that she was on terms of familiarity
+with a number of diplomats, and that she seemed to have a fondness for
+army and navy officials, led me to believe that she was a sort of super
+spy, sent over here for a specific purpose. The instant you mentioned
+the Carruthers Code she sprang to my mind. A bill, slipped into the
+fingers of her maid, brought the information about the green cloak, and
+the rest was easy.
+
+"I figured that she'd have the cipher key on her to-night, for it was
+her first opportunity of passing it along to the man I felt certain she
+was working for. Sure enough, as she passed him about half an hour ago
+she tapped her bracelet, apparently absent-mindedly. As soon as he was
+out of sight I sent one of the maids with a message that some one wanted
+to see her in one of the smaller rooms. Thinking that it was the
+ambassador, she came at once. I was planted behind the door, handcuffed
+her before she knew what I was doing, and then signaled you!
+
+"Quite elementary, my dear Melville, quite elementary!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"That," added Quinn, "was the last they heard of Mrs. Armitage. Taylor
+reported the matter at once, but the chief said that as they had the
+code they better let well enough alone. The following day the woman left
+Washington, and no one has heard from her since--except for a package
+that reached Taylor some months later. There was nothing in it except
+that photograph yonder, and, as Taylor was interested only in his bride,
+_nee_ Madelaine James, he turned it over to me for my collection."
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+FIVE INCHES OF DEATH
+
+
+"Quinn," I said one evening when the veteran of the United States Secret
+Service appeared to be in one of his story-spinning moods, "you've told
+me of cases that have to do with smuggling and spies, robberies and
+fingerprints and frauds, but you've never mentioned the one crime that
+is most common in the annals of police courts and detective bureaus."
+
+"Murder?" inquired Quinn, his eyes shifting to the far wall of his
+library-den.
+
+"Precisely. Haven't government detectives ever been instrumental in
+solving a murder mystery?"
+
+"Yes, they've been mixed up in quite a few of them. There was the little
+matter of the Hallowell case--where the crime and the criminal were
+connected by a shoelace--and the incident of 'The Red Circle.' But
+murder, as such, does not properly belong in the province of the
+government detective. Only when it is accompanied by some breach of the
+federal laws does it come under the jurisdiction of the men from
+Washington. Like the Montgomery murder mystery, for example."
+
+"Oh yes, the one connected with the postmark that's framed on your wall
+over there!" I exclaimed. "I'd forgotten about that. Hal Preston handled
+it, didn't he--the same man responsible for running down 'The Trail of
+the White Mice'?"
+
+"That's the one," said Quinn, and I was glad to see him settle
+luxuriously back in his old armchair--for that meant that he was
+preparing to recall the details of an adventure connected with a member
+of one of the government detective services.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+If it hadn't been for the fact that Preston was in California at the
+time, working on the case of a company that was using the mails for
+illegal purposes, it is extremely doubtful if the mystery would ever
+have been solved [Quinn continued]; certainly not in time to prevent the
+escape of the criminal.
+
+But Hal's investigations took him well up into the foot-hills of the
+Sierra Nevadas, and one morning he awoke to find the whole town in which
+he was stopping ablaze with a discussion of the "Montgomery mystery," as
+they called it.
+
+It appeared from the details which Preston picked up in the lobby of his
+hotel that Marshall Montgomery had settled down in that section of the
+country some three years before, but that he had surrounded himself with
+an air of aloofness and detachment which had made him none too popular.
+Men who had called to see him on matters of business had left smarting
+under the sting of an ill-concealed snub, while it was as much as a book
+agent's life was worth to try to gain entrance to the house.
+
+"It wasn't that he was stingy or close-fisted," explained one of the men
+who had known Montgomery. "He bought more Liberty Bonds than anyone else
+in town--but he bought them through his bank. Mailed the order in, just
+as he did with his contributions to the Red Cross and the other
+charitable organizations. Wouldn't see one of the people who went out to
+his place. In fact, they couldn't get past the six or eight bulldogs
+that guard the house."
+
+"And yet," said Preston, "I understand that in spite of his precautions
+he was killed last night?"
+
+"Nobody knows just when he was killed," replied the native, "or how.
+That's the big question. When his servant, a Filipino whom he brought
+with him, went to wake him up this morning he found Montgomery's door
+locked. That in itself was nothing unusual--for every door and window in
+the place was securely barred before nine o'clock in the evening. But
+when Tino, the servant, had rapped several times without receiving any
+reply, he figured something must be wrong. So he got a stepladder,
+propped it up against the side of the house, and looked in through the
+window. What he saw caused him to send in a hurry call for the police."
+
+"Well," snapped Preston, "what did he see?"
+
+"Montgomery, stretched out on the floor near the door, stone dead--with
+a pool of blood that had formed from a wound in his hand!"
+
+"In his hand?" Preston echoed. "Had he bled to death?"
+
+"Apparently not--but that's where the queer angle to the case comes in.
+The door was locked from the inside--not only locked, but bolted, so
+there was no possibility of anyone having entered the room. The windows
+were tightly guarded by a patented burglar-proof device which permitted
+them to be open about three inches from the bottom, but prevented their
+being raised from the outside."
+
+"Was there a chimney or any other possible entrance to the room?"
+
+"None at all. Three windows and a door. Montgomery's body was sprawled
+out on the rug near the doorway--a revolver in his right hand, a bullet
+hole through the palm of his left. The first supposition, of course,
+was that he had accidentally shot himself and had bled to death. But
+there wasn't enough blood for that. Just a few drops on the table and a
+small pool near the body. They're going to hold an autopsy later in the
+day and--"
+
+It was at that moment that the Post-office operative became conscious
+that some one was calling his name, and, turning, he beckoned to the
+bell-boy who was paging him.
+
+"Mr. Preston? Gentleman over there'd like to speak to you." Then the boy
+added in a whisper, "Chief o' police."
+
+Excusing himself, Preston crossed the lobby to where a large and
+official-looking man was standing, well out of hearing distance of the
+guests who passed.
+
+"Is this Mr. Preston of the Postal Inspection Service?" inquired the
+head of the local police force, adding, after the government operative
+had nodded. "I am the chief of police here."
+
+"Glad to meet you, Chief," was Preston's response. "I haven't had the
+pleasure of making your acquaintance, though of course I know you by
+sight." (He neglected to add how recently this knowledge had been
+acquired.) "What can I do for you?"
+
+"Have you heard about the murder of Montgomery Marshall?"
+
+"Only the few details that I picked up in the lobby just now. But a case
+of that kind is entirely out of my line, you know."
+
+"Ordinarily it would be," agreed the other, "but here's something that I
+think puts a different complexion on things," and he extended a
+bloodstained scrap of paper for Preston to examine.
+
+"That was found under the dead man's hand," the chief continued. "As you
+will note, it originally formed part of the wrapping of a
+special-delivery parcel which reached Montgomery about eight o'clock
+last night--just before the house was locked up, in fact. Tino, the
+Filipino servant, signed for it and took it in, placing it upon the
+table in the room in which his master was found this morning. The scrap
+of paper you are holding is just enough to show the postmark
+'Sacramento'--but it's quite evident that the package had something to
+do with the murder."
+
+"Which is the reason that you want me to look into it, eh?"
+
+"That's the idea. I knew that you were in town, and the very fact that
+this box came through the mails makes it necessary for the Post-office
+Department to take cognizance of what otherwise would be a job for the
+police force alone. Am I right?"
+
+"Perfectly," replied Preston. "Provided you have reason to believe that
+there was some connection between the special-delivery package and the
+crime itself. What was in the box?"
+
+"Not a thing!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Not a thing!" repeated the chief. "Perfectly empty--at least when we
+found it. The lid was lying on the table, the rest of the box on the
+floor. The major portion of the wrapping paper had been caught under a
+heavy paper weight and it appears that Montgomery, in falling, caught at
+the table to save himself and probably ripped away the scrap of paper I
+have just given you."
+
+"But I thought his body was found near the door?"
+
+"It was, but that isn't far from the table, which is jammed against the
+wall in front of one of the windows. Come on up to the house with me
+and we'll go over the whole thing."
+
+Glad of the excuse to look into a crime which appeared to be
+inexplicable, Preston accompanied the chief to the frame dwelling on the
+outskirts of town where Montgomery Marshall, hermit, had spent the last
+three years of his life.
+
+The house was set well back from the road, with but a single gateway in
+a six-foot wall of solid masonry, around the top of which ran several
+strands of barbed wire.
+
+"Montgomery erected the wall himself," explained the chief. "Had it put
+up before he ever moved into the house, and then, in addition, kept a
+bunch of the fiercest dogs I ever knew."
+
+"All of which goes to prove that he feared an attack," Preston muttered.
+"In spite of his precautions, however, they got him! The question now
+is: Who are 'they' and how did they operate?"
+
+The room in which the body had been found only added to the air of
+mystery which surrounded the entire problem.
+
+In spite of what he had been told Preston had secretly expected to find
+some kind of an opening through which a man could have entered. But
+there was none. The windows, as the Postal operative took care to test
+for himself, were tightly locked, though open a few inches from the
+bottom. The bolt on the door very evidently had been shattered by the
+entrance of the police, and the dark-brown stain on the rug near the
+door showed plainly where the body had been found.
+
+"When we broke in," explained the chief, "Montgomery was stretched out
+there, facing the door. The doctor said that he had been dead about
+twelve hours, but that it was impossible for the wound in his hand to
+have caused his death."
+
+"How about a poisoned bullet, fired through the opening in the window?"
+
+"Not a chance! The only wound on the body was the one through the palm
+of his hand. The bullet had struck on the outside of the fleshy part
+near the wrist and had plowed its way through the bone, coming out near
+the base of the index finger at the back. And it was a bullet from his
+own revolver! We found it embedded in the top of the table there." And
+the chief pointed to a deep scar in the mahogany and to the marks made
+by the knives of the police when they had dug the bullet out.
+
+"But how do you know it wasn't a bullet of the same caliber, fired from
+outside the window?" persisted Preston.
+
+For answer the chief produced Montgomery's revolver, with five
+cartridges still in the chambers.
+
+"If you'll note," he said, "each of these cartridges is scored or
+seamed. That's an old trick--makes the lead expand when it hits and
+tears an ugly hole, just like a 'dum-dum.' The bullet we dug out of the
+table was not only a forty-five, as these are, but it had been altered
+in precisely the same manner. So, unless you are inclined to the
+coincidence that the murderer used a poisoned bullet of the same size
+and make and character as those in Montgomery's gun, you've got to
+discard that theory."
+
+"Does look like pulling the long arm of coincidence out of its socket,"
+Preston agreed. "So I guess we'll have to forget it. Where's the box you
+were talking about?"
+
+"The lid is on the table, just as we found it. The lower portion of the
+box is on the floor, where the dead man apparently knocked it when he
+fell. Except for the removal of the body, nothing in the room has been
+touched."
+
+Stooping, Preston picked up the box and then proceeded to study it in
+connection with the lid and the torn piece of wrapping paper upon the
+table. It was after he had examined the creases in the paper, fitting
+them carefully around the box itself, that he inquired: "Do you notice
+anything funny about the package, Chief?"
+
+"Only that there's a hole at one end of it, just about big enough to put
+a lead pencil through."
+
+"Yes, and that same hole appears in the wrapping paper," announced
+Preston. "Couple that with the fact that the box was empty when you
+found it and I think we will have--"
+
+"What?" demanded the chief, as Preston paused.
+
+"The solution to the whole affair," was the reply. "Or, at least, as
+much of it as refers to the manner in which Montgomery met his death. By
+the way, what do you know about the dead man?"
+
+"Very little. He came here some three years ago, bought this place,
+paying cash for it; had the wall built, and then settled down. Never
+appeared to do any work, but was never short of money. Has a balance of
+well over fifty thousand dollars in the bank right now. Beyond the fact
+that he kept entirely to himself and refused to allow anyone but Tino,
+his servant, to enter the gate, he really had few eccentricities. Some
+folks say that he was a miser, but there are a dozen families here that
+wouldn't have had any Christmas dinner last year if it hadn't been for
+him--while his contribution to the Red Cross equaled that of anyone in
+town."
+
+"Apart from his wanting to be alone, then, he was pretty close to being
+human?"
+
+"That's it, exactly--and most of us have some peculiarity. If we didn't
+have we'd be even more unusual."
+
+"What about Tino, the servant?" queried Preston.
+
+"I don't think there's any lead there," the chief replied. "I hammered
+away at him for an hour this morning. He doesn't speak English any too
+well, but I gathered that Montgomery picked him up in the Philippines
+just before he came over here. The boy was frightened half out of his
+senses when I told him that his master had been killed. You've got to
+remember, though, that if Tino had wanted to do it he had a thousand
+opportunities in the open. Besides, what we've got to find out first is
+how Montgomery met his death?"
+
+"Does the Filipino know anything about his master's past?" asked
+Preston, ignoring the chief's last remark.
+
+"He says not. Montgomery was on his way back to the States from Africa
+or some place--stopped off in the islands--spent a couple of months
+there--hired Tino and sailed for San Francisco."
+
+"Africa--" mused the Postal operative. Then, taking another track, he
+inquired whether the chief had found out if Montgomery was in the habit
+of getting much mail, especially from foreign points.
+
+"Saunders, the postmaster, says he didn't average a letter a month--and
+those he did get looked like advertisements. They remembered this
+special-delivery package last night because it was the first time that
+the man who brought it out had ever come to the house. He rang the bell
+at the gate, he says, turned the box over to Tino, and went along."
+
+"Any comment about the package?"
+
+"Only that it was very light and contained something that wabbled
+around. I asked him because I figured at the time that the revolver
+might have been in it. But the Filipino has identified that as
+Montgomery's own gun. Says he'd had it as long as he'd known him."
+
+"Then all we know about this mysterious box," summarized Preston, "is
+that it was mailed from Sacramento, that it wasn't heavy, that it had a
+hole about a quarter-inch wide at one end, and that it contained
+something that--what was the word the special-delivery man
+used--'wabbled'?"
+
+"That's the word. I remember because I asked him if he didn't mean
+'rattled,' and he said, 'No, wabbled, sort o' dull-like.'"
+
+"At any rate, that clears up one angle of the case. The box was not
+empty when it was delivered! Granting that the Filipino was telling the
+truth, it was not empty when he placed it on the table in this room!
+That means that it was not empty when Marshall Montgomery, after locking
+and bolting his door, took off the wrapping paper and lifted the lid!
+You've searched the room thoroughly, of course?"
+
+"Every inch of it. We didn't leave a--"
+
+But the chief suddenly halted, his sentence unfinished. To the ears of
+both men there had come a sound, faint but distinct. The sound of the
+rattling of paper somewhere in the room.
+
+Involuntarily Preston whirled and scrutinized the corner from which the
+sound appeared to have come. The chief's hand had slipped to his hip
+pocket, but after a moment of silence he withdrew it and a slightly
+shamefaced look spread over his face.
+
+"Sounded like a ghost, didn't it?" he asked.
+
+"Ghosts don't rattle papers," snapped Preston. "At least self-respecting
+ones don't, and the other kind haven't any right to run around loose. So
+suppose we try to trap this one."
+
+"Trap it? How?"
+
+"Like you'd trap a mouse--only with a different kind of bait. Is there
+any milk in the house?"
+
+"Possibly--I don't know."
+
+"Go down to the refrigerator and find out, will you? I'll stay here
+until you return. And bring a saucer with you."
+
+A few moments later, when the chief returned, bearing a bottle of milk
+and a saucer, he found Preston still standing beside the table, his eyes
+fixed upon a corner of the room from which the sound of rattling paper
+had come.
+
+"Now all we need is a box," said the Postal operative. "I saw one out in
+the hall that will suit our purposes excellently."
+
+Securing the box, he cut three long and narrow strips from the sides,
+notched them and fitted them together in a rough replica of the figure
+4, with the lower point of the upright stick resting on the floor beside
+the saucer of milk and the wooden box poised precariously at the
+junction of the upright and the slanting stick.
+
+"A figure-four trap, eh?" queried the chief. "What do you expect to
+catch?"
+
+"A mixture of a ghost and the figure of Justice," was Preston's
+enigmatic reply. "Come on--we'll lock the door and return later to see
+if the trap has sprung. Meanwhile, I'll send some wires to Sacramento,
+San Francisco, and other points throughout the state."
+
+The telegram, of which he gave a copy to the local chief of police, "in
+order to save the expense of sending it," read:
+
+     Wire immediately if you know anything of recent arrival from
+     Africa--probably American or English--who landed within past
+     three days. Wanted in connection with Montgomery murder.
+
+The message to San Francisco ended with the phrase "Watch outgoing boats
+closely," and that to Sacramento "Was in your city yesterday."
+
+Hardly an hour later the phone rang and a voice from police
+headquarters in Sacramento asked to speak to "Postal Inspector Preston."
+
+"Just got your wire," said the voice, "and I think we've got your man.
+Picked him up on the street last night, unconscious. Hospital people say
+he's suffering from poisoning of some kind and don't expect him to live.
+Keeps raving about diamonds and some one he calls 'Marsh.' Papers on him
+show he came into San Francisco two days ago on the _Manu_. Won't tell
+his name, but has mentioned Cape Town several times."
+
+"Right!" cried Preston. "Watch him carefully until I get there. I'll
+make the first train out."
+
+That afternoon Preston, accompanied by two chiefs of police, made his
+way into a little room off the public ward in the hospital in
+Sacramento. In bed, his face drawn and haggard until the skin seemed
+like parchment stretched tightly over his cheekbones, lay a man at the
+point of death--a man who was only kept alive, according to the
+physicians, by some almost superhuman effort of the will.
+
+"It's certain that he's been poisoned," said the doctor in charge of the
+case, "but he won't tell us how. Just lies there and glares and demands
+a copy of the latest newspaper. Every now and then he drifts off into
+delirium, but just when we think he's on the point of death he
+recovers."
+
+Motioning to the others to keep in the background, Preston made his way
+to the bedside of the dying man. Then, bending forward, he said, very
+clearly and distinctly: "Marshall Montgomery is dead!"
+
+Into the eyes of the other man there sprang a look of concentrated
+hatred that was almost tangible--a glare that turned, a moment later,
+into supreme relief.
+
+"Thank God!" he muttered. "Now I'm ready to die!"
+
+"Tell me," said Preston, quietly--"tell me what made you do it."
+
+"He did!" gasped the man on the bed. "He and his damned brutality. When
+I knew him his name was Marsh. We dug for diamonds together in South
+Africa--found them, too--enough to make us both rich for life. But our
+water was running low--barely enough for one of us. He, the skunk, hit
+me over the head and left me to die--taking the water and the stones
+with him."
+
+He paused a moment, his breath rattling in his throat, and then
+continued:
+
+"It took me five years to find him--but you say he's dead? You're not
+lying?"
+
+Preston shook his head slowly and the man on the bed settled back and
+closed his eyes, content.
+
+"Ask him," insisted the chief of police, "how he killed Montgomery?"
+
+In a whisper that was barely audible came the words: "Sheep-stinger. Got
+me first." Then his jaws clicked and there was the unmistakable gurgle
+which meant that the end had come.
+
+"Didn't he say 'sheep-stinger'?" asked the chief of police, after the
+doctor had stated that the patient had slipped away from the hands of
+the law.
+
+"That's what it sounded like to me," replied Preston. "But suppose we go
+back to Montgomery's room and see what our ghost trap has caught. I told
+you I expected to land a figure of Justice--and if ever a man deserved
+to be killed it appears to have been this same Montgomery Marshall, or
+Marsh, as this man knew him."
+
+The instant they entered the room it was apparent that the trap had
+sprung, the heavy box falling forward and completely covering the saucer
+of milk and whatever had disturbed the carefully balanced sticks.
+
+Warning the chief to be careful, Preston secured a poker from an
+adjoining room, covered the box with his automatic, and then carefully
+lifted the box, using the poker as a lever.
+
+A second later he brought the head of the poker down on something that
+writhed and twisted and then lay still, blending in with the pattern of
+the carpet in such a manner as to be almost invisible.
+
+"A snake!" cried the chief. "But such a tiny one! Do you mean to say
+that its bite is sufficiently poisonous to kill a man?"
+
+"Not only one, but two," Preston declared, "as you've seen for yourself.
+See that black mark, like an inverted V, upon the head? That's
+characteristic of the cobra family, and this specimen--common to the
+veldts of South Africa where he is known as the 'sheep stinger'--is
+first cousin to the big king cobras. Montgomery's former partner
+evidently brought him over from Africa with this idea in mind. But when
+he was packing him in the box--the airhole in the end of it gave me the
+first inkling, by the way--he got careless and the snake bit him. Only
+medical attention saved his life until this afternoon, else he'd have
+passed along before Montgomery. I think that closes the case, Chief, and
+in spite of the fact that the mails were used for a distinctly illegal
+purpose, I believe your department ought to handle the matter--not
+mine."
+
+"But the trap--the milk? How'd you happen to hit on that?"
+
+"When you told me what the special-delivery man said about the contents
+of the package 'wabbling' I figured that the box must have contained a
+snake," explained the Postal operative. "An animal would have made some
+noise, while a snake, if well fed, will lie silent for hours at a time.
+The constant motion, however, would have made it irritable--so that it
+struck the moment Montgomery removed the lid of the box. That explains
+the wound in his hand. He knew his danger and deliberately fired, hoping
+to cauterize the wound and drive out the poison. It was too quick for
+him, though, or possibly the shock stunned him so that he fell.
+
+"Then, in spite of the fact that your men claimed to have searched the
+room thoroughly, that noise in the corner warned me that whatever killed
+Montgomery was still here. Going on the theory that the majority of
+snakes are fond of milk, I rigged up the trap. And there you are!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Yes," concluded Quinn, "the majority of the cases handled by government
+detectives have to do with counterfeiting or smuggling or other crimes
+against the federal law--offenses which ought to be exciting but which
+are generally dull and prosaic. Every now and then, though, they stumble
+across a real honest-to-goodness thrill, a story that's worth the
+telling.
+
+"I've got to be away for the next couple of months or so, but drop
+around when I get back and I'll see if I can't recall some more of the
+problems that have been solved by one of the greatest, though least
+known, detective agencies on the face of the earth."
+
+
+                    THE END
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Contents page changes made to agree with chapter headings:
+"Lost--$100,000!"--quotes and exclamation point added. "The Double
+Code"--quotes added. "Thirty Thousand," and again on P. 253--hyphen
+removed (more frequent without).
+
+After Contents page, "On Secret Service" displays twice--once alone on
+a page, and again above the Chapter I heading. One of the redundancies
+has been deleted.
+
+Missing or incorrect punctuation repaired.
+
+Spelling errors fixed.
+
+Hyphenation variants changed to most frequently used version.
+
+P. 54 "Simpson lives" original reads "Simpson lived."
+
+P. 58 Thought break added for consistency.
+
+P. 89 "Douglass" changed to more frequently used "Douglas."
+
+P. 177 Code table: Original shows first number under q as "19."
+Corrected to "17."
+
+P. 198 "well dressed" changed to "well-dressed."
+
+P. 221 two occurrences of "blonde" changed to more frequently used
+"blond."
+
+Abbreviations "sub." and "ad." in original retained.
+
+"Charleston" and "Charlestown," "down town" and "downtown" (used
+equally), "everyone" and "every one [of]," "resume" (for summary) and
+"resume" (for assume anew), "loath" (for unwilling) and "loathe" (for
+abhor), "mix-up" and "mixup" (used equally), "anyone" and "any one" (a
+single, particular one) were used in this text and retained.
+
+Also retained "flivvered" (P. 104).
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's On Secret Service, by William Nelson Taft
+
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