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diff --git a/old/54099-0.txt b/old/54099-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c4dfd76..0000000 --- a/old/54099-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3685 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Shot With Crimson, by George Barr McCutcheon - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Shot With Crimson - -Author: George Barr McCutcheon - -Illustrator: F. R. Gruger - -Release Date: February 3, 2017 [EBook #54099] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHOT WITH CRIMSON *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -SHOT WITH CRIMSON - -By George Barr McCutcheon - -Illustrated by F. R. Gruger - -New York: Dodd, Mead And Company - -1918 - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - - - -SHOT WITH CRIMSON - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -|FOR thirty seconds no one moved. - -An odd sort of paralysis seemed to have gripped every one in the -room,--paralysis of the mind as well as of the body. - -Then puzzled, wondering looks were exchanged. - -A man sitting near the fireplace glanced sharply, apprehensively at the -huge beams in the ceiling and muttered: - -“What was it! Sounded as though something had smashed in the roof. -There's a tremendous wind. It may have got that big tree at the corner -of the locker room.” - -“It _couldn't_ have been thunder,--not at this time of the year,” said -one of the women, sending a nervous, frightened look at her husband -who sprawled ungracefully in a big Morris chair at the end of a table -littered with newspapers and magazines. - -“'Gad, did you feel the house rock?” exclaimed he, sitting up suddenly, -his eyes narrowing as with pain. “Like an earthquake. - -“It _couldn't_ have been an earthquake,” interrupted his wife, starting -up from her chair. - -“Why couldn't it?” he demanded crossly, and then glanced around at the -other occupants of the room,--ten or a dozen men and women seated in -a wide semi-circle in front of the huge logs blazing in the fireplace. -“What do you think it was, Zimmie?” - -“We'll find part or all of the roof gone,” answered the man addressed. -As he spoke, he rose quickly and started across the room in the -direction of the door leading to the steward's pantry. “I'll have a look -from the back of the--” - -He stopped short. The dull, ripping crash that had startled them was -repeated, this time a little louder and more prolonged than before. The -club-house shook. Several of the men sprang to their feet in alarm. A -look of comprehension shot among them. - -“By Gad! An explosion!” cried one of them. “The damned beasts!” - -“The Reynolds Works!” cried another, gripping the back of his chair with -tense fingers. “Sure as you're alive! It's only a few miles from here. -Nothing else could have--” - -“Let's go home, Ned. The children--something may have happened--you -never can tell--” - -“Don't get excited, Betty,” cried the man in the Morris chair. She -was shaking his arm. “The children are in New York, twenty miles away. -They're all right, old girl. Lord! What a smash it was!” - -The group was silent, waiting with bated breath for the third and -perhaps more shocks to come. - -The club steward came into the room, bearing a tray of bottles and -glasses. His face was ashen; there was a set expression about it, as one -who controls his nerves with difficulty. - -“Did you hear it, Peter?” was the innocuous inquiry of one of the men, a -dapper young fellow in corduroys. - -“_Yes_, Mr. Cribbs. I thought at first it was the roof, sir. The chef -said it was the big chimney--” - -“Never mind the drinks, Peter,” said a tall, greyish man as the steward -placed the glasses on the table. “We've lost what little thirst we had. -Where are the Reynolds Works from here?” - -Peter looked surprised. “South, sir,--beyond the hills. About five -miles, I should say, Mr. Carstairs.” - -“And which way is south?” inquired one of the women. “I am always -turned around when I am in the country.” She was a singularly pallid, -clear-featured woman of perhaps forty-five. One might surmise that at -twenty she had been lovely, even exquisite. - -“This way, Mrs. Carstairs,” said the steward, starting toward the -windows at the lower end of the lounge. - -The man who had been addressed as Zimmie was already at one of the broad -windows, peering out into the black, windy night. - -“Can't see a thing,” he said, as the others crowded about him. “The -shops are off there in a direct line with the home green, I should say.” - -“I happen to know that the Allies have a fifteen million dollar contract -with the Reynolds people,” said Carstairs, looking hard into the -blackness. - -“If they'd string up a few of these infernal--There! See the glow coming -up over the hill? She's afire! And with this wind,--'gad, she'll go like -waste paper! My God, I wish the whole German Army was sitting on top of -those buildings right now.” It was little Mr. Cribbs who spoke. He was -shaking like a leaf. - -“I'd rather see a million or two of these so-called German-Americans -sitting there, Cribbs,” said Carstairs, between his teeth. “There'd be -some satisfaction in that.” - -His wife nudged him sharply. He turned and caught the warning look in -her eye and the slight movement of her head in the direction of the man -called Zimmie. - -“Oh, that's all right,” cried Carstairs carelessly. “You needn't punch -me, dear. Zimmie 's as good an American as any of us. Don't think for a -moment, Zimmie, old chap, that I include you in the gang I'd like to see -sitting on that pile of shells over there.” - -The man at the window turned, and smiled affably. - -“Thanks, old man. Being, as you say, as good an American as any of you, -I may be permitted to return the compliment. I shouldn't like to see -Mrs. Carstairs sitting on that pile of shells.” - -Carstairs flushed. An angry light leaped to his eyes, but it was -banished almost instantly. Mrs. Carstairs herself replied. - -“I can't imagine anything more distasteful,” she drawled. - -“But Mrs. Carstairs isn't a German,” put in little Mr. Cribbs, somewhat -tartly for him. - -“You're always saying the wrong thing, Cribbs,--or the right thing at -the wrong time,” said Carstairs. “Mrs. Carstairs is not German. Her -father and mother were, however. She's in the same fix as Zimmerlein, -and she isn't ashamed of it any more than Zimmie is.” - -“I had--er--no idea that Mrs. Carstairs was--” - -“What were your parents, Mr. Cribbs?” asked Mrs. Carstairs calmly. - -“Nebraskans,” said Cribbs, stiffening. “My grandfather was a Welshman.” - -“And so you have absolutely nothing to reproach yourself with,” said -she. “How fortunate in these days.” - -“I'm sorry, Mrs. Carstairs, if I--” - -“I was born in the United States,” she said, without a trace of -annoyance, “but not in Nebraska. You have the advantage of me there, I -fear. And of poor Mr. Zimmerlein, too. He was born in Boston,--were you -not?” - -“In Marlborough Street,” said Zimmerlein, drily. “My father was Irish, -as you can tell by me name, and me poor mither was Irish too. Her name -before marriage was Krausshof.” Mr. Cribbs's face was scarlet. To cover -his confusion, he wedged his way a little closer to the windows and -glared at the dull red light that crept slowly out of the darkness -off to the south. The crests of the hills were beginning to take shape -against a background shot with crimson. - -“Just the same,” he muttered, “I'd like to see the men who are -responsible for that fire over there burning in hell.” - -“I think we can agree on that point, at least, Mr. Cribbs,” said -Zimmerlein, with dignity. - -“Who wants to run over there with me in my car?” cried the other, -excitedly. “It's only a few miles, and it must be a wonderful sight. I -can take six or seven--” - -“Stay where you are, Cribbs,” said Carstairs sharply. “When those shells -begin to go off--Why, man alive, there's never been anything on the -French front that could hold a candle to it. Don't forget what happened -when Black Tom pier was blown up. Pray do not be alarmed, ladies. There -isn't the slightest danger here. The shells they are making at the -Reynolds plant are comparatively small. We're safely out of range.” - -“What size shells were they making, Carstairs?” inquired one of the men. - -“Three inch, I believe--and smaller. A lot of machine-gun ammunition, -too. Cox, the general manager, dined with us the other night. He talked -a little too freely, I thought,--didn't you, Frieda?” - -“He boasted, if that is what you mean,” said Mrs. Carstairs. - -“Well,” said a big, red-faced man on the outer edge of the group, “it's -time some of these blooming fools learned how to keep their mouths shut. -The country's full of spies,--running over with 'em. You never know when -you're talking to one.” - -Silence followed his remark. For some time they all stood watching the -crimson cloud in the distance, an ever-changing, pulsing shadow that -throbbed to the temper of the wind. - -They represented the reluctant element of a large company that had spent -the afternoon and early evening at the Black Downs Country Club,--the -element that is always reluctant to go home. There had been many -intimate little dinner parties during the evening. New York was twenty -miles or more away, and there was the Hudson in between. The clock above -the huge fireplace had struck eleven a minute or two before the first -explosion took place. Chauffeurs in the club-garage were sullenly -cursing their employers. All but two or three waiters had gone off to -the railway station not far away, and the musicians had made the 10:30 -up-train. Peter, the steward, lived on the premises with the chef and -several house employes. - -The late-staying guests were clad in sport clothes, rough and warm -and smart,--for it was one of the smartest clubs in the Metropolitan -district. - -A fierce October gale was whining, cold and bitter and relentless, -across the uplands; storm-warnings had gone out from the Weather Bureau; -coast-wise vessels were scurrying for harbours and farmers all over the -land had made snug their livestock against the uncertain elements. - -If it turned out to be true that the vast Reynolds munitions plant had -been blown up, the plotters could not have chosen a more auspicious -night for their enterprise. No human force could combat the flames on -a night like this; caught on the wings of the wind there would be no -stopping them until the ashes of ruin lay wet and sodden where the -flight had begun. - -Mrs. Carstairs was the first to turn away from the windows. She -shuddered a little. A pretty, nervous young wife sidled up to her, and -laid a trembling hand on her arm. - -“Wouldn't it be dreadful if there were a lot of people at work over -there when--when it happened?” she cried, in a tense, strained voice. -“Just think of it.” - -“Don't think about it, Alice dear. Think of what they are going through -in France and Belgium.” - -“But we really aren't fighting them yet,” went on the other, -plaintively. “Why should they blow up our factories? Oh, these dreadful, -terrible Germans.” Then suddenly, in confusion: “I--I beg your pardon.” - -Mrs. Carstairs smiled pleasantly. “That's all right, my dear. A good -many of us suffer for the sins of the fathers. Besides, we are in the -war, and have been for six months or more.” - -“We all hate the Kaiser, don't we?” pleaded the younger woman. - -Mrs. Carstairs pressed her arm. “None more so than those of us whose -parents left Germany to escape such as he.” - -“I'm glad to hear you say that.” - -“Beg pardon,” said Peter the steward, at Mrs. Carstairs' elbow. “I think -this is yours. You dropped it just now.” - -“Thank you, Peter,” said she, taking the crumpled handkerchief he handed -her. “I shan't drop it again,” she went on, smiling as she stuffed it -securely in the gold mesh bag she was carrying. - -“Peter is such a splendid man, isn't he?” said her young companion, -lowering her voice. “So much more willing and agreeable than old Crosby. -We're all so glad the change was made.” - -“He is most efficient,” said Mrs. Carstairs. - -The admirable Peter approached Mr. Carstairs and Zimmerlein, who were -pouring drinks for themselves at the table. - -“Preparedness is the word of the hour,” Carstairs was saying, as he -raised his glass. “It's a long, cold ride home.” - -“Excuse me, gentlemen, shall I call up Central at Bushleigh and see if -they can give us any news!” asked Peter. - -“You might try. I don't believe you can get a connection, however. -Everything must be knocked galley-west over on that side of the ridge.” - -“I think your wife is signalling you, Carstairs,” said Zimmerlein, -looking over the other's shoulder. - -Carstairs tossed off the contents of the glass, and reached out his hand -for the check. Zimmerlein already had it in his fingers. - -'“I'll sign it, old chap,” he said. “Give me your pencil, Peter.” - -“None of that, Zimmie. I ordered the--” - -“Run along, old man, your wife--He's coming, Mrs. Carstairs,” called out -Zimmerlein. - -As Carstairs turned away, Zimmerlein scratched his name across the -check, and handed it back to the steward. - -“Under no circumstances are you to call up Bushleigh,” fell in low, -distinct tones from his lips. “Do you understand?” - -Peter's hand shook. His face was livid. - -“Yes, sir,” he muttered. “What shall I say to Mr. Carstairs?” - -“Say that no one answers,” said the other, and walked away. - -The company had recovered its collective and individual power of speech. -Every one was talking,--loudly, excitedly, and in some cases violently. -Some were excoriating the Germans, others were bitterly criticizing -the Government for its over-tenderness, and still others were blaming -themselves for not taking the law in their own hands and making short -work of the “soap-boxers,” the “pacifists,” and the “obstructionists.” - Little Mr. Cribbs was the most violent of them all. He was for -organizing the old-time Vigilantes, once so efficacious in the Far West, -and equipping them with guns and ropes and plenty of tar and feathers. - -“Nothing would please me more than to lead such a gang,” he proclaimed. -“Lead 'em right into these foul nests where----What's that, Judge?” - -“I repeat--How old are you, Cribbs?” - -“Oh, I guess I'm old enough to shoot a gun, or pull a rope or carry a -bucket of tar,” retorted the young man. - -“I'll put it the other way. How young are you?” - -“I'm twenty-nine.” - -“I see. And how did you escape the draft?” - -“They haven't reached my number yet,” said Mr. Cribbs, with dignity. - -“Well, that's good. There's still hope,” said the Judge, grimly. “They -need just such fire-eaters as you over there in France with Pershing.” - -Carstairs turned to Zimmerlein, who was being helped into his fur-coat -by one of the attendants. - -“Can't we take you to the city, Zimmerlein? There is plenty of room in -the car.” - -“No, thank you, Carstairs. I'm going in by train. Mr. and Mrs. Prior -will drop me at the station. Good night. Oh, here's Peter. What did you -hear?” - -“I could get no answer, Mr. Zimmerlein,” said the steward steadily. -“Wires may be down, sir.” - -“Good night, Mrs. Carstairs.” Zimmerlein held out his hand. She -hesitated an instant, and then took it. Her gaze was fixed, as if -fascinated, on his dark, steady eyes. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -|HOARSE, raucous-voiced newsboys were crying the “extras” soon after -midnight. They were doing a thriving business. The destruction of the -great Reynolds plant, more spectacular and more appalling than any -previous deed perpetrated by the secret enemies of the American people, -was to drive even the most sanguine and indifferent citizen to a full -realizaton of the peril that stalked him and his fellow-man throughout -the land. Complacent security was at last to sustain a shock it could -not afford to scorn. Up there in the hills of Jersey a bombardment had -taken place that rivalled in violence, if not in human toll, the most -vivid descriptions of shell-carnage on the dripping fronts of France. - -Huge but vague headlines screamed into the faces of quick-breathing men -and wide-eyed women the first details of the great disaster across the -River. - -Night-farers, threading the streets, paused in their round of pleasure -to gulp down the bitter thing that came up into their throats--a sick -thing called Fear. From nearly every doorway in the city, some one -issued forth, bleak-eyed and anxious, to hail the scurrying newsboys. -The distant roar of the shells had roused the millions in Manhattan; -windows rattled, the frailer dwellings rocked on thin foundations. It -was not until the clash of heavy artillery swept up to the city on -the wind from the west that the serene, contemptuous denizens of the -greatest city in the world cast off their mask of indifference and rose -as one person to ask the vital question: Are the U-Boats in the Harbour -at last? - -An elderly man, two women, and a sallow-faced man of thirty sat by the -windows at the top of a lofty apartment building on the Upper West Side. -For an hour they had been sitting there, listening, and looking always -to the west, out over the dark and sombre Hudson. Father, mother, -daughter and son. The first explosion jarred the great building in which -they were securely housed. - -“Ah!” sighed the old man, and it was a sigh of relief, of satisfaction. -The others turned to him and smiled for the first time in hours. The -tension was over. - -Farther down-town two men in one of the big hotels silently shook -hands, bade each other a friendly good-night for the benefit of chance -observers, and went off to bed. The waiting was over. - -Two night watchmen met in front of one of the biggest office buildings -in New York, within hearing of the bells of Trinity and almost within -sound of the sobbing waters of the Bay. Their faces, rendered almost -invisible behind the great collars that protected them from the shrill -winds coming up the canyons from the sea, were tense and drawn and -white, but their eyes glittered brightly, fiercely, in the darkness. -They too had been waiting. - -In a dingy apartment in Harlem, three shifty-eyed, nervous men, and -a pallid, tired, frightened woman rose suddenly from the lethargy of -suspense and grinned evilly, not at each other but at the rattling, -dilapidated window looking westward across the sagging roofs of the -squalid district. One of the men stretched forth a quivering hand and, -with a hoarse laugh of exultation, seized in his fingers a strange, -crudely shaped metallic object that stood on the table nearby. He -lifted it to his lips and kissed it! Then he put it down, carefully, -gingerly,--with something like fear in his eyes. Scraps of tin, pieces -of iron and steel, strands of wire, wads of cotton and waste, and an -odd assortment of tools littered the table. Harmless appearing cans, and -bottles, and dirty packages, with a mortar and pestle, a small chemist's -scales, funnels and graduates stood in innocent array along a shelf -attached to the wall, guarded,--so it seemed,--by sinister looking tubes -and retorts. - -The woman, her eyes gleaming with a malevolent joy that contrasted -strangely with the dread that had been in them a moment before, lifted -her clenched hands and hissed out a single word: - -“Christ!” - -They, too, had been waiting. - -Thousands there were in the great city whose eyes glistened that -night,--thousands who had not been waiting, for they knew nothing of -the secret that lay secure and safe in the breasts of the few who were -allowed to strike. Thousands who rejoiced, for they knew that a great -and glorious deed had been done! They only knew that devastation had -fallen somewhere with appalling force,--it mattered not to them where, -so long as it had fallen in its appointed place! - -Many a glass, many a stein, was raised in stealthy tribute to the hand -that had rocked the city of New York! And in the darkness of the night -they hid their gloating faces, and whispered a song without melody. - -Rich man, poor man, beggar-man, thief! In spirit, at least, they touched -hands and thrilled with a common exaltation! - -It was after one o'clock when the Carstairs' motor crept out of the -ferry-house at 130th Street, and whirled up the hill toward the Drive. -A rough-looking individual who loitered unmolested in the lee of the -ferry-house, peered intently at the number of the car as it passed, and -jotted it down in a little book. He noted in the same way the license -numbers of other automobiles. When he was relieved hours afterward, he -had in his little book the number of every car that came in from Jersey -between half past eleven at night and seven o'clock in the morning. It -was not his duty to stop or question the occupants of these cars. He -was merely exercising the function of the mysterious Secret Eyes of the -United States Government. - -Mr. and Mrs. Carstairs were admitted to their Park Avenue apartment by -a tall, beautiful girl, who threw open the door the instant the elevator -stopped at the floor. - -“Thank goodness!” she cried, a vibrant note of relief in her voice “We -were so dreadfully--” - -“What are you doing up, Louise?” cried Mrs. Carstairs quickly. Her -husband frowned, as with annoyance. - -“Where is Hodges?” he demanded. He stood stock-still for a moment before -following his wife into the foyer. - -“He went out some time ago to get an 'extra.' The boys were in the -street calling new ones. He asked if he might go out. How--how terrible -it is, Uncle Dawy. And it was so near the Club, I--I--oh, I was -dreadfully worried. The papers say the shells fell miles away--Why, I -couldn't go to bed, Aunt Frieda. We have been trying for hours to get -the Club on the telephone.” She was assisting Mrs. Carstairs in removing -her rich chinchilla coat. Carstairs studied the girl's white face with -considerable anxiety as he threw off his own fur coat. The worried frown -deepened. - -“Could you hear the explosions over here, Louise?” he asked. - -“Hear them? Why, Uncle dear, we all thought the city was being bombarded -by warships in the river, it sounded so near and so terrible. Alfie and -I ran to the windows. It was just after eleven, I think. He called up -Central at once, but the girl was so frightened she could hardly speak. -She didn't know what had happened, but she was sure the Germans were -destroying the city. She said another girl had seen the Zeppelins. -Alfie went out at once. Oh, dear, I am so glad you are home. I was so -anxious--” - -“My dear child, you should be in bed,” began her uncle, taking her hand -in his. He laid his other hand against her cheek, and was relieved to -find it cool. “You say Alfred went out--at eleven?” - -“A few minutes after eleven. He waited until all the noise had ceased. I -assured him I was not the least bit nervous. He had been working so hard -all evening in your study over those stupid physics.” - -“And he hasn't returned? Confound him, he shouldn't have gone off and -left you all alone here for two solid hours--” - -“Don't be angry with him, Uncle Dawy,” pleaded the girl. “He was so -excited, poor boy, he simply couldn't sit here without knowing what had -happened. Besides, Hodges and two of the maids were up,--so I wasn't all -alone.” She followed them into the brilliantly lighted drawing-room. -“Here are the first extras. The doorman sent them up to me.” - -Mrs. Carstairs dropped heavily into a chair. Her face was very white. - -“How terrible,” she murmured, glancing at the huge headlines. - -“I say, Frieda,” exclaimed her husband; “it's been too much for you. A -drop of brandy, my dear,--” - -“Nothing, thank you, Davenport. I am quite all right. The shock, you -know. We were so near the place, Louise,--don't you see? Really, it was -appalling.” - -“What beasts! What inhuman beasts they are!” cried the girl, in a sort -of frenzy. “They ought to be burned alive,--burned and tortured for -hours. The last extra says that the number of dead and mutilated is -beyond--” - -“Now, now!” said Carstairs, gently. “Don't excite yourself, child. It -isn't good for you. You've been too ill, my dear. Run along to bed, -there's a sensible girl. We'll have all the details by tomorrow,--and, -believe me, things won't be as bad as they seem tonight. It's always the -case, you know. And you, too, Frieda,--get to bed. Your nerves are all -shot to pieces,--and I'm not surprised. I will wait for--” - -A key grated in the door. - -“Here he is now. Hello, Alfred,--what's the latest?” - -His son came into the room without removing his overcoat or hat. His -dark eyes, wet from the sharp wind without, sought his mother's face. - -“Are you all right, Mother? I've been horribly worried--thank the Lord! -It's a relief to see that smile! You're all right? Sure?” - -He kissed his mother quickly, feverishly. She put her arm around his -neck and murmured in his ear. - -“I am frightfully upset, of course, dear. Who wouldn't be?” - -He stood off and looked long and intently into her eyes. Then he -straightened up and spoke to his father. - -“I might have known you wouldn't let anything happen to her, sir. But -I was horribly worried, just the same. Those beastly shells went -everywhere, they say. The Club must have been--” - -“Nowhere near the Club, so far as I know,” said his father cheerfully. -“We were all perfectly safe. Have they made any arrests? Of course, it -wasn't accidental.” - -“I've been downtown, around the newspaper offices,” said the young -man, throwing his coat and hat on a chair. “There are all sorts of wild -stories. People are talking about lynchings, and all that sort of rot. -Nothing like that ever happens, though. We do a lot of talking, and -that's all. It all blows over as soon as the excitement dies down. -That's the trouble with us Americans.” - -“America will wake up one of these days, Alfred,” said his father -slowly, “and when she does, there will be worse things than lynchings to -talk about.” - -“Are your feet cold, Alfred dear?” inquired his mother, a note of -anxiety in her voice. “You've been tramping about the streets, and---- -You must have a hot water bottle when you go to bed. There is so much -pneumonia--” - -“Always mothering me, aren't you, good Frieda?” he said, lovingly. He -pronounced it as if it were Friday. It was his pet name for her in the -bosom of the family. “Warm as toast,” he added. He turned to Louise. -“You didn't mind my running away and leaving you, did you, Louise?” - -“Not a bit, Alfie. I tried to get Derrol on the long distance, but they -said at the Camp it was impossible to call him unless the message was -very important. I--I--so I asked the man if there had been any kind -of an accident out there and he said no, there hadn't. I--asked him if -Captain Steele was in bed, and he said he should hope so. Don't laugh, -Alfie! I know it was silly, but--but it _might_ have been an ammunition -depot or something at the Camp. We didn't know--” - -“Ammunition, your granny! They haven't sufficient ammunition in that -Camp,--or in any of 'em, for that matter,--to make a noise loud enough -to be heard across the street. How can you expect me to keep a straight -face when you suggest an _explosion_ in an Army Camp?” - -“It's high time we stopped talking about explosions and went to bed,” - said Carstairs, arising. He put his arm across his wife's shoulders. -“We've had all the explosions we can stand for one night, haven't we, -dear? Come along, everybody. Off with you!” - -“Hodges should be back any moment with the latest 'extra,'” said Louise. -“Can't we wait just a few minutes, Uncle Dawy? He has been gone over an -hour.” - -The telephone bell in Mr. Carstairs' study rang. So taut were the nerves -of the four persons in the adjoining room that they started violently. -They looked at each other in some perplexity. - -“Probably Hodges,” said Alfred, after a moment. “Shall I go, dad?” - -“See who it is,” said Carstairs. - -“Wrong number, more than likely,” said his wife, wearily. “Central has -been unusually annoying of late. It happens several times every day. The -service is atrocious.” - -Young Carstairs went into the study and snatched up the receiver. -Moved by a common impulse, the others followed him into the room, the -face of each expressing not only curiosity hut a certain alarm. - -“Yes, this is Mr. Carstairs' residence.... What?... All right.” He sat -down on the edge of the library table and turned to the others. “Must be -long distance. They're getting somebody.” - -Alfred Carstairs was a tall, well-built young fellow of twenty. He -bore a most remarkable, though perhaps not singular, resemblance to his -mother. His eyes were dark, his thick hair a dead black, growing low on -his forehead. The lips were full and red, with a whimsical curve at -the corners denoting not merely good humour but a certain contempt for -seriousness in others. He was handsome in a strong, hold way despite a -strangely colourless complexion,--a complexion that may be described as -pasty, for want of a nobler word. His voice was deep, with the guttural -harshness of youth; loud, unmusical, not yet fixed by the processes -of maturity. A big, dominant, vital boy making the last turn before -stepping into full manhood. He was his mother's son,--his mother's boy. - -His father, a Harvard man, had been thwarted in his desire to have -his son follow him through the historic halls at Cambridge,--as he had -followed his own father and his grandfather. - -Sentiment was not a part of Alfred's makeup. He supported his mother -when it came to the college selection. Together they agreed upon -Columbia. She frankly admitted her selfishness in wanting to keep -her boy at home, but found other and less sincere arguments in the -protracted discussions that took place with her husband. She fought -Harvard because it was not democratic, because it bred snobbishness and -contempt, because it deprived the youth of this practical age of the -breadth of vision necessary to success among men who put ability before -sentiment and a superficial distinction. She urged Columbia because it -was democratic, pulsating, practical. - -In the end, Carstairs gave in. He wanted to be fair to both of them. But -he was not deceived. He knew that her chief reason, though spoken softly -and with almost pathetic simpleness, was that she could not bear the -separation from the boy she loved so fiercely, so devotedly. He was -not so sure that filial love entered into Alfred's calculations. If the -situation had been reversed, he was confident,--or reasonably so,--that -Alfred would have chosen Harvard. - -He had the strange, unhappy conviction that his son opposed him in this, -as in countless other instances, through sheer perversity. His mother's -authority always had been supreme. She had exercised it with an -iron-handed firmness that not only surprised but gratified the father, -who knew so well the tender affection she had for her child. Her word -was law. Alfred seldom if ever questioned it, even as a small and -decidedly self-willed lad. Paradoxically, she both indulged and -disciplined him by means of the same consuming force: her mother-love. - -On the other hand, Carstairs,--a firm and positive character,--received -the scantiest consideration from the boy on the rare occasions when he -felt it necessary to employ paternal measures. Alfred either sulked or -openly defied him. Always the mother stepped into the breach. She never -temporized. She either promptly supported the father's demand or opposed -it. No matter which point of view she took, the youngster invariably -succumbed. In plain words, it was _her_ command that he obeyed and not -his father's. - -As time went on, Carstairs came to recognize the resistless combination -that opposed him, and, while the realization was far from comforting, -his common-sense ordered him to accept the situation, especially as -nothing could be clearer than the fact that she was bringing her son -up with the most rigid regard for his future. She had her eyes set far -ahead; she was seeing him always as a man and not as a boy. That much, -at least, Carstairs conceded, and was more proud of her than he cared -to admit, even to himself. He watched the sturdy, splendid, earnest -development of his boy under the influence of a force stronger than any -he could have exercised. - -Sometimes he wondered if it was the German in her that made for the -rather unusual strength which so rarely rises above the weakness of a -mother's pity. Once he laughingly had inquired what she would have done -had their child been born a girl. - -“I should have been content to let _you_ bring her up,” said she, with a -twinkle in her eye. - -While she was resolute, almost unyielding in regard to her growing son, -her attitude toward her husband was in all other respects amazingly free -from assertiveness or arrogance. On the contrary, she was submissive -almost to the point of humility. He was her man. He was her law. A -simple, unwavering respect for his strength, his position, his authority -in the home of which he was the head, rendered her incapable of opposing -his slightest wish. An odd timidity, singularly out of keeping with -her physical as well as her mental endowments, surrounded her with that -pleasing and,--to all men,--gratifying atmosphere of femininity so dear -to the heart of every lord and master. She made him comfortable. - -And she was, despite her social activities, a good and capable -house-wife,--one of the old-fashioned kind who thinks first of her -man's comfort and, although in this instance it was not demanded, of his -purse. He was her man; it was her duty to serve him. - -As her boy merged swiftly,--almost abruptly into manhood,--her -long-maintained grip of iron relaxed. Carstairs, noting the change, was -puzzled. He was a long time in arriving at the solution. It was very -simple after all: she merely had admitted another _man_ into her -calculations. Her boy had become a man,--a strong, dominant man,--and -she was ready, even willing, to relinquish the temporary power she had -exerted over him. - -She was no longer free to command. Alfred had come into his own. He was -a man. She was proud of him. The time had come for her to be humble in -the light of his glory, and she was content to lay aside the authority -with which she had cloaked her love and ambition for so long. _His_ word -had become her law. She had two men in her family now. Slowly but surely -she was giving them to understand that she was their woman, and that -she knew her place. She had been for twenty-two years the wife of one of -them, and for twenty years the mother of the other. - -Carstairs was rich. He was a man of affairs, a man of power and -distinction in the councils of that exalted class known as the leaders -of finance. He represented one of the soundest vertebrae in the -back-bone of the nation in these times of war. With a loyalty that -incurred a tremendous amount of self-sacrifice, he had offered all of -his vital energy, all of his heart, to the cause of the people. He was -on many boards, he was in touch with all the great enterprises that -worked for the comfort, the support and the encouragement of those -who went forth to give their lives if need be in the turmoil' of war. -Davenport Carstairs stood for all that was fine and strong in practical -idealism, which, after all, is the basis of all things truly American. - -As he stood inside the study door, watching with some intensity the -face of his son, he was suddenly conscious of a feeling of dread, not -associated with the recent grave event, but something new that was -creeping, as it were, along the wire that reached its end in the -receiver glued to Alfred's ear. He glanced at his wife. She suddenly -exhaled the breath she was holding and smiled faintly into his concerned -eyes. - -“Yes,--” said Alfred, impatiently, after a long pause,--“Yes, this is -Mr. Carstairs' home.... I am his son.... What?... Yes, he's here, but -can't you give me the message?... Who are you?... What?... Certainly -I'll call him, but... Here, father; it's some one who insists on -speaking to you personally.” - -He set the receiver down on the table with a sharp bang, and -straightened up to his full height as if resenting an indignity. - -[Illustration: 0051] - -Carstairs took up the receiver. He realized that his hand trembled. He -had never known it to happen before, even in moments of great stress. - -“_Yes_, this is Davenport Carstairs. Who are you, please?” He started -slightly at the crisp, business-like reply. “Bellevue Hospital? Police -surgeon--What? Just a moment, please. Now, go ahead.” He had seated -himself in the great library chair at the end of the table. “Yes; -my butler's name is Hodges.... An Englishman.... What?... What has -happened, officer?... Good God!... I--Why, certainly, I shall come down -at once if necessary. I--can identify him, of course.... Yes, tomorrow -morning will suit me better.... Hold the wire a moment, please.” - -He turned to the listeners. “Hodges has been injured by an automobile,” - he said quietly. “I gather he is unconscious. You are nervous and upset, -Frieda, so you'd better retire. Leave this to--” - -“Is he dead, Davenport?” she asked in a low horror-struck voice. - -“Run along, Louise,--skip off to bed. I'll get the details and tell -you in the morning.” The girl swayed slightly. Her eyes were wide with -anguish. - -“I--I shouldn't have allowed him to go out,” she stammered. “I--Oh, -Uncle Dawy!” - -Mrs. Carstairs put her arm about the girl's waist and led her from the -room. Carstairs looked up at his son. - -“I guess you can stand it, Alfred. He's dead. Instantly killed.” He -spoke into the transmitter. “Tell me how it happened, please.” - -He hung up the receiver a moment or two later. - -“Run down at the corner of Madison Avenue and 48th Street. There were -two witnesses, and both say that he was standing in the street waiting -for a car. The automobile was going forty miles an hour. He never knew -what hit him. Poor devil! Have you ever heard him mention his family, -Alfred? We must notify some one, of course.” - -“No, sir,” said his son. “He seemed a quiet sort. The other servants may -know. Mother says his references were of the highest order,--that's all -I know. What a terrible thing to have--” - -“We must not worry your mother with this tonight, my son. She's had -enough for today.” - -“I should say so,” exclaimed Alfred, clenching his hands. He choked up, -and said no more. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -|PAUL ZIMMERLEIN was a mining engineer. His offices were off Fifth -Avenue, somewhere above 34th Street. He stood well in his profession, he -stood high as a citizen. No one questioned his integrity, his ability -or his loyalty. He was a good American. At least, a great many good -Americans said he was, which amounts to the same thing. - -One entered his offices through a small antechamber, where a young woman -at the telephone-desk made perfunctory inquiries, but always in a crisp, -business-like manner. She was the first cog in a smooth-running piece of -machinery. Her name was Mildred,--Mildred Agnew, and she had a brother -in the British navy, from whom she received infrequent letters of a most -unilluminating character,--letters omitting date, place and ship: in -which he said he was well and happy and hoped to God the Germans would -come out into the open to see what the weather was like. - -If your business was important, or you had an appointment, you would -be conducted by a smart-looking boy into a rather imposing corner room, -from whose windows you could look down fourteen storeys to the roof of -an eight storey building below. Presently you would be invited into -Mr. Zimmerlein's private office. Beyond this snug little office was the -drafting room, where several actively studious men of various ages bent -over blue-prints and estimate sheets. - -They all appeared to be good, industrious Americans; you could see them -quite plainly through the glass upper half of the intervening door. - -You were at once aware of an impression that this was not the place to -come if you were engaged in a secret or shady enterprise,--such as the -exploitation of a “get-rich-quick” mining proposition or any kindred -opening for the unwary. You always said to yourself that you felt quite -safe in the hands of Mr. Paul Zimmerlein,--and his associates. - -You went about saying that you wished all men with German blood in them -were like Mr. Paul Zimmerlein. He became one of your pet hobbies. You -invariably referred to him when you declared that you knew at least -one man of German extraction who was “absolutely on the level,” and you -would unhesitatingly go about proving it if any one had the effrontery -to even discuss the point with you. All you would have to do would be -to point in triumph to the men who were his associates professionally, -commercially and socially. The list would include many of the really -significant figures in public life. Among them, for instance, you would -mention several United States senators, at least two gentlemen high -up in Administrative circles, practically all of the big financiers, -certain members of the English Cabinet, and,--in a pinch,--the -presidents of three South American Republics. He was on record as being -violently opposed to Von Berastorff,--indeed, he had said such -bitter and violent things about the ex-ambassador that even the most -conservative German-Americans,--those who actually were opposed to the -Kaiser and his policies,--felt that he was going much too far. - -He was about forty years of age, tall and powerfully built, with -surprisingly mobile features for one whose face at a glance suggested -heaviness and stolidity. His smile was ever ready and genial; his manner -courtly; his eyes, which were honest and unwavering, had something -sprightly in them that invited confidence and comradeship. The thick, -dark hair was touched with grey at the temples, and there was a deep -scar on his left cheek, received--not in a German university, as you -might suppose,--but during a fierce and sanguinary encounter with Yaqui -Indians in northern Mexico,--a tragedy which cost the lives of several -of his companions and brought from the people of the United States -a demand that the government take drastic action in the matter. -Altogether, a prepossessing, substantial figure of a man, with a -delightful personality. - -Shortly before noon on the day following the destruction of the great -Reynolds plant by alien plotters, Zimmerlein was seated in his office, -awaiting the arrival of two well-known New York merchants and a -gentleman from Brazil. Half-a-dozen morning newspapers, with their -sinister head-lines, lay upon his desk, neatly folded and stacked with -grave orderliness. He had read them, and was lolling back in his big -leather chair with a faint smile on his lips, and a far-off, frowning -expression in his eyes. - -The gentleman from Brazil came first. - -“Sit down,” said Zimmerlein curtly. “They will be here in a few minutes.” - -“That was a terrible thing last night, Zimmerlein,” said the Brazilian, -nervously glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the -drafting-room. - -Zimmerlein made no response. He resumed his set, faraway expression, his -gaze directed at the upper sash of the broad, high window, beyond which -a distant, grey cloud glided slowly across a blue-white sky. - -“Most shocking,” went on the Brazilian, after a moment. He had not -removed his overcoat. The fur collar was still fastened closely about -his neck. - -Zimmerlein turned toward his visitor. - -“Take off your coat, Riaz. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, affably. -“Help yourself to a cigar.” - -Riaz,--Sebastian Riaz, diamond merchant and mine-owner of Rio -Janeiro,--removed his coat. “The appointment was for eleven o'clock, Mr. -Zimmerlein,” he said, looking at his watch. “They are late. It is nearly -twelve.” - -“Permit me to remind you that you also were late. Everything is in -order, my dear sir. The deal may be closed in ten minutes,--or even -less time than that,--if there is no further haggling on your part.” - He closed one eye slowly. “The contracts, the estimates, the plans are -ready. Nothing is lacking except the signatures.” - -“Just as they have been ready for nearly two months,” observed Riaz, -also closing an eye. - -“All ready--except the signatures and the _date_.” - -“We shall date them,--and sign them,--in our extremity,” said -Zimmerlein, going to a safe which stood invitingly open in a corner of -the room. He removed a small but important-looking package of papers and -tossed them carelessly on the table. “Such as a visit from on high,” he -added, with a smile. - -“Yes,” said Riaz, and sat down again, frowning. - -“We shall never be caught napping. Here are the papers, as they would -say in the melodrama. By the way, do you go in for melodrama in Rio? Or -are you above that form of amusement?” - -Riaz remained unsmiling. “It is not as popular with us as it is with you -Americans,” said he. “We see through it too readily.” - -Zimmerlein unfolded and spread out several of the documents. “There!” he -said. “Let him come who will. Under the sharpest eyes in America you may -transfer property valued at ten millions, and no one will question the -validity of the transaction. You see, my dear Riaz, you _do_ own these -mines and they are exactly what they are represented to Be. To save -their lives, they can't go behind the facts. And the purchasers -are prepared to hand over the cash at any moment. Could anything be -simpler?” - -“Nothing,” said the Brazilian, sententiously,--“except the damned little -slip that sometimes comes between the cup and the lip.” - -“Ah, but our cup is always at the lip,” said Zimmerlein buoyantly. -“Don't be a kill-joy, old chap.” - -“All well and good, Zimmerlein, unless some one's lip splits.” He shot -an uneasy glance into the drafting-room. - -“This is the most perfect machine in the world, Riaz. Have no fear. -Every cog has been tested and is of the staunchest steel. Every part has -been put in its proper place by the greatest genius alive.” - -“I don't have to remind you that a few cogs in the Foreign office have -slipped badly.” - -The door opened to admit two brisk, prosperous-looking gentlemen. - -“I fear we are late,” said the foremost. “It was unavoidable, I assure -you.” - -“It is never too late,” said Zimmerlein, advancing to shake hands with -the new-comers. Then, while they were laying aside their overcoats, -he stepped swiftly to the door of the drafting-room and called out: -“Thorsensel! Come here, please. And you also, Martin.” - -One of the men in the outer room, laid down the instrument with which -he was working over a huge blue-print; with a sigh of resignation, he -removed his green eye-shield, smoothed out his wrinkled alpaca coat, and -came slowly, diffidently into the private office. He was a middle-aged, -stoop-shouldered, sunken-faced man, with a drooping moustache that -lacked not only in pride but in colour as well. The ends were gnawed -and scraggly, and there were cigarette stains along the uneven edges. -Otherwise, this sickly adornment was straw-coloured. Thick spectacles -enlarged his almost expressionless blue eyes; as one looked straight -into them, the eyeballs seemed to be twice the normal size. - -This man was John Thorsensel, civil engineer, American--born of Norwegian -parentage, graduate of one of the greatest engineering universities -in the country. You would go many a league before encountering a more -unimposing, commonplace person,--and yet here was the most astute secret -servant in the German Kaiser's vast establishment. Not Zimmerlein, nor -Riaz, nor any of the important-looking individuals who skulked behind -respectable names, not one of them was the head and heart of the -sinister, far-reaching octopus that spread its slimy influence across -the United States of America. John Thorsensel, an insignificant toiler, -was the master-mind, the arch-conspirator. It was his hand that rested -on the key, his thought that covered everything, his infernal ingenuity -that confounded the shrewdest minds on this side of the Atlantic. The -last man in the world to be suspected,--such was John Thorsensel, bad -angel. - -Martin, the other man called to the conference, was a brisk young fellow -who left a rolltop desk in the corner of the drafting-room and presented -himself with stenographer's note-book and pencil. It is worthy of -mention that this book already contained the stenographic notes of -the preliminary verbal discussion between the three principals to a -transaction involving the sale of great mining properties in South -America. Everything was perfectly prepared, even to the abrupt -termination of the conference that would come naturally in case agents -of the government took it into their heads to appear. Martin's notes, -jotted down weeks beforehand, broke off in the most natural way. There -is no telling how many times he had sat with the note-book on his knee -in just such a conference as this, without adding a single word to what -already appeared on the pages. It is safe to say, however, that the -notes were never transcribed. - -It would have been impossible to find in the offices of Paul Zimmerlein -a single incriminating line, or article, or suggestion of either,--for -the simple reason that no such thing existed. Nothing ever appeared in -tangible form. Visitors were always welcome. - -Once and once only had the slightest symptom of a creak appeared in the -well-ordered machine. One man was suspected,--merely suspected. There -was no actual evidence against him in the hands of the conspirators, -but the fact that a _possibility_ existed was enough for them. He was -an ordinary window-washer who came twice a month to the office,--not -oftener,--in his regular round of the building. Always it was the same -man who washed Zimmerlein's windows, and always a few words passed -between him and the engineer,--words that no one else heard. One day -the device to which his safety belt was attached gave way and he fell -fourteen storeys to the roof of the building below. He was to be trusted -after that. - -The six men gathered in the office of Mr. Paul Zimmerlein formed a -combination of intelligence, wealth, energy and evil sufficient to -satisfy even the most exacting of masters. Here were the shrewdest, the -safest, the soundest agents of the cruelest system in all the world. No -small, half-hearted undertaking in frightfulness ever grew out of -their deliberations; no sporadic, clumsy botch in the shape of needless -violence; no crazy, fore-doomed project; no mistakes. They were the -_big_ men,--the men who did the _big_ things. - -Out of every nook and cranny in the land oozed constant and reliable -reports from the most trustworthy sources, from agents of both sexes; -sly, secret, mysterious forces supplied them with facts that no man -was supposed to know; the magic of the Far East was surpassed by these -wizards who came not out of Egypt but from commonplace, unromantic -circles in the Occident. - -The departures of vessels from every port, the nature of their cargoes; -the sailings of transports and the number of troops; the conditions -in all the munitions plants and cantonments; the state of mind of the -millions of workers and idlers throughout the land; the very _thoughts_ -of the people in control of the country's affairs, it would seem. -Everything! Everything was known to this resourceful clique. They were -the backbone of the unrest, the uneasiness, the scepticism that swept -the land. Their agents, loyal unto death, were everywhere. The secrets -of sea, land and air were theirs. They could buy,--buy anything they -wanted with the wealth that was theirs for the asking. - -Information came to them and commands were issued by them in a thousand -different ways, but never in circumstances that invited suspicion. -A casual meeting on the street; the passing of the time of day; -a hand-shake in restaurant or club; brief and seemingly innocuous -exchanges of pleasantries at the theatre; perfunctory contact with -stenographers, employes, and customers in the course of a day; thus, -under the eyes of all observers the secret word was given and received. -With these men no word was written, no visible message was exchanged. -And the German language was never spoken. - -“Trains from the West are all late,” said one of the late arrivals, an -elderly, grey-whiskered man. “Rhine did not get in from Chicago till -nearly eleven. It was imperative that I should see him before coming -here, gentlemen.” - -“Well?” demanded Thorsensel. - -“He says the time is not yet ripe. He has studied the situation, has had -reports from many sources. It is too soon. A partial success would be -far worse than a total failure. He is very positive. '7 - -“All right,” said Thorsensel crisply. The matter was thus summarily -disposed of. He did not believe in wasting time or words. He turned, -with a questioning look, to the other prosperous-looking citizen. - -“He died very suddenly last night,” said that worthy, responding to the -unspoken query. - -Thorsensel nodded his head with lively satisfaction. - -“Anything else?” - -“That young fellow we were speaking of the other day dropped in at the -store this morning. He appears to be interested in a very good-looking -shop-girl on the second floor. I don't know how many pairs of gloves he -has bought of her in the past few weeks.” - -“I know, I know,” impatiently. “Miss Group.” - -“We're making no mistake about this fellow, are we, Elberon?” demanded -Zimmerlein. - -“No,--absolutely no. Ill stake my life on him.” - -“Go on,” said Thorsensel curtly. - -“The British and French Commission sails tomorrow on the _Elston_. There -is no question about it. He had it from the same source that reported -their arrival last month.” - -“Martin, see that this information is on the wing immediately,” said -Thorsensel. “We may accept it as authentic.” - -“I should think we might,” said Zimmerlein, “when you stop to consider -that no one in the United States or England is supposed to know, even -now, that this Commission is in the country,--that is, no one outside -a very restricted circle in Washington. I've never known anything to -be kept so completely under cover. Some of the biggest men in France -and England land on our shores, transact the most important business -conceivable, and get out again without so much as a whiff of the -news reaching the public. Somebody deserves the Iron Cross for this, -Thorsensel. It is the cleverest, smartest piece of work that has been -done up to date.” - -“I venture the opinion that the _Elston_ with its precious cargo will -never see land again,” was Thorsensel's remark. - -“The Kitchener job all over again, eh?” said Riaz, admiringly. - -“Or the _Lusitania_, amended Elberon. - -“Don't speak of the _Lusitania_,” exclaimed Thorsensel, irritably. “You -know how I feel about that piece of stupidity.” - -“You were against it all the time, I know,” began Elberon. - -“Of course I was. It was the gravest blunder in history. But this is no -time to talk about it. Every one has reported on last night's business. -There were no casualties and no one is missing.” - -“Good!” exclaimed the grey-whiskered plotter, his piggish eyes -sparkling. “No one killed or injured or missing, eh? That seems all that -could be expected of Providence.” - -“Every man has reported,” said Thorsensel succinctly. “Even Trott, from -whom we had heard nothing for two whole days. It appears he was trapped -and had to lie hidden in an empty bin. He got away just in time, -and without being seen. Yes, luck and God were with us last night, -gentlemen. Not a life lost, nor a man scratched.” - -“If we come out half as well next week, I will say that God is with us,” - said Zimmerlein. - -“Where were you last night, Elberon?” demanded the gaunt leader -abruptly. - -“I dined with some friends and went to the theatre afterwards, -Thorsensel.” - -“Who were they?” - -“Mr. and Mrs. Heidel----” - -“You needn't finish the name,” broke in Thornsensel. “I want to warn you -again not to take them into your confidence,--not even in the smallest -of matters.” - -“His brother is a general in the Bavarian----” - -“It doesn't matter. I know all that. And one of her brothers is in the -Reichstag. But you must not overlook the fact that a great many of these -people are loyal to America. That is a point you don't seem able to get -through your head, Elberon. The worst enemy, the direst peril we have to -contend with is the American-German, if you grasp the distinction. No -one seems to have used the hyphen in just that way, Elberon, but there -is such a thing as the American-German, and we've got to steer clear of -him. He's not as uncommon as you may think, either. This man you were -with last night is one. He would turn you over to the authorities in a -flash if he got a breath of the truth. A word to the wise, Elberon, -means a word to you.” - -“A man is one thing or the other,” said the other, flushing. “He's -either a German or an American. There's nothing in the hyphen.” - -“You're quite right,” agreed Thorsensel. “The man you were with last -night is an American in spite of his name and his antecedents. I happen -to know. Somewhere in this city there is a list of the people I define -as American-Germans. It is a rather formidable list, let me tell you. -They happen to be traitors, damn them.” - -“Traitors? I thought you said they were loyal.” - -“You'd see what would happen to them if they ever set foot on German -soil,” said Thorsensel, and it was not difficult, even for the stolid -Elberon, to see what he meant by loyalty. - -An hour later the meeting came to an end, and the men went their several -ways, unsuspected by the troubled, harassed watch-dogs of the nation. -In that hour they had confidently, almost contemptuously, forwarded the -consummation of other enterprises even more startling than the blowing -up of the Reynolds plant. Remote assassinations were drawn a trifle -nearer; plans leading to the bombing of New York by aeroplanes that were -to rise up out of the sea from monster submarines; a new and not to be -denied smashing of the Welland Canal; well-timed collisions of ships in -the lower Hudson, and other basins, with results more stupendous than -anything yet conceived; deceptive peace propaganda for the guileless -and unwary American proletariat; subtle interference in the Halls of -Congress; almost everything, it may be said, except the transfer of -valuable mines in Brazil. That trifling detail was left to another day. - -Within the next hour, a message was on its way through the air to -far-off Berlin, giving in singularly accurate figures the military -losses sustained by the Allies at a spot in New Jersey recently occupied -by the great Reynolds concern. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -|AT the end of ten days the excitement and horror occasioned by the -blowing up of the Reynolds plant had succumbed to the great American -curse: indifference. Amateur secret service men brazenly proclaiming -themselves, went about more actively than ever, showing their badges and -looking up clues at the same time, doing more harm than good, for -while professional intelligence men were compelled to accept them as -liabilities, the grateful aliens quite properly regarded them as assets. - -The burning of two grain warehouses in Chicago, the wrecking of a -train loaded with motor trucks, three dock fires in Brooklyn, and the -partially suppressed account of an explosion on board a man-of-war in -home waters, provided the public with its daily supply of pessimism. -Scores of alien suspects were seized, examined and interned. Others -were caught with “the goods,” so to speak, and were flung into prison to -await, in most cases, the minimum penalty for maximum intentions. But -at no time was the finger of accusing Justice levelled at any one of the -men or women who made the wheels go round. - -Late in the afternoon of a cold, blustering day a young man presented -himself at the Carstairs home. He was a smart-looking, upstanding chap -in the uniform of a captain of Infantry. The new butler announced that -Miss Hansbury was at home and was expecting Captain Steele. - -You would go far before finding a manlier, handsomer fellow than this -young American soldier. Lithe, and tall, and graceful, he was every inch -a man and a thoroughbred. Only a few months before, he had given up a -splendid position down town, with a salary that few young men commanded -and prospects that even fewer entertained, and eagerly offered himself, -heart and soul, to the army that was to lift his country out of the pit -of commercialism and give it a place among the proud. - -He had won his sword and his shoulder straps with the ease of one -who earnestly strives, and at the same time he had conquered in an -enterprise sweetly remote from the horrors of war. Louise Hansbury, -beautiful and gifted, was wearing the emblem of surrender on the third -finger of her left hand. - -He was to dine with the Carstairs that evening; as a privileged person, -he came long ahead of the other guests of the evening. There was to be a -distinguished company. A Cabinet officer, a prominent Southern Senator, -an Admiral of the Navy, a Foreign Ambassador, to say nothing of more -than one potentate in the realm of finance. And women whose names -were not more widely-known than their deeds in these days of great -endeavour,--women who had put aside frivolity and selfishness and social -gluttony for the cold, hard business of making the country safe. - -Mrs. Carstairs, herself, was the chairman of one of the most important -of the Relief Organizations controlled and operated exclusively by -women; far from being a mere figure-head, she was an active, zealous -worker, an inspiration to her associates. - -One of the guests of the evening was to be an Italian Countess whose -labours in the war hospitals of her native land had made her one of the -most conspicuous women in all Europe. - -Louise Hansbury was the daughter of Davenport Carstairs' only sister, -now deceased. Since the death of her mother,--her father had died when -she was a small child,--the girl had made her home with this adoring -uncle. She possessed a somewhat meagre fortune,--sufficient to -guarantee independence, however, if she chose to care for herself,---a -circumstance that would have excited resistance in Davenport Carstairs -had it ever come up for discussion. - -“How are you, dearest?” inquired the young officer, holding her off to -look anxiously, searchingly into her eyes. The colour of health was just -beginning to flow in her cheeks. - -“Gorgeous,” she replied, her eyes agleam with love and happiness. - -“Go slow,” he said gently. “Don't tax yourself too much. It's a serious -job, this business of getting well.” - -“But I _am_ well, you goose. I never felt better in my life.” - -“You never were more beautiful,” he said softly. - -“I'd much rather hear you say that than something really serious,” she -cried, smiling divinely into his dazzled eyes. - -“You've had pneumonia,” he said sternly, after the moment it took to -regain a temporarily lost air of authority. “Mighty sick you've been, -darling,--and--” - -“And I'm not to get my feet wet, or sit in a draft, or--Very good, -Captain! Orders is orders, sir.” She stood off and saluted him with mock -solemnity. - -[Illustration: 0010] - -“I'm so glad you came early, Derrol,” she cried, abruptly abandoning her -frivolous air. “I've--I've wanted you so much. This has been a long--oh, -an age, dear. You knew that poor Hodges was killed by an automobile, -didn't you? I never know what I put in my letters. And there is all this -talk about Belgium being a nest of spies at the outset, and--oh, _that_ -would be too much. Sit here with me, Derrol, and--you might hold -me close to you,--just for a little while. It--yes, it does give me -strength to feel your arms about me.” After a few moments, the troubled -look that had been lurking in his eyes for a long time, reappeared. A -light frown clouded his brow. He glanced over his shoulder, and, when he -spoke, his voice was even lower than it had been before. - -“Louise dear, something very strange and mysterious has happened. Don't -be alarmed, dear. It has turned out all right. But,--'gad, it might have -resulted very seriously. Do you remember that I told you about ten days -ago,--in this very room,--that I suspected a certain officer in our camp -of being--well, crooked?” - -“Yes,--I remember quite well, Derrol. Is--is he?” - -He smiled grimly. “That remains to be seen. I had observed one or two -things about him that excited my suspicions, but I mentioned the matter -to no one. The next day after I spoke to you about it, I decided to -go to headquarters with my fears. As a matter of fact, by that time I -really had something tangible to report. I was received by the general -himself. He was dumbfounded. Instantly an investigation was started. The -officer I mentioned was missing from camp. It was found that he had gone -to New York the night before, but was expected back in the morning--just -as I was. That was ten days ago. He has never returned. It has been -proved beyond all question that he was a spy. There is no doubt in my -mind that he got a tip while in New York, and beat it for parts unknown. -Now the infernal part of the business is that I never mentioned my -suspicions to a soul except to you,--never even breathed them outside of -this room until the next day.” - -She was staring at him in perplexity. “But--but, Derrol dear, what does -it all mean? You--you certainly cannot think that I repeated--” - -“Of course not, dear,--certainly not. I--” - -“In the first place, I had not been outside the apartment,” she went on -in suppressed excitement. “And I give you my word of honour that I did -not mention the matter to a soul in this house. Not one word, Derrol. If -you--” - -“Calm yourself, Louise,” he urged, pressing her hands. “The chances are -that he found out he was suspected before he left camp, and even as I -was telling you he may have been on his way to safety. I have not told -any one that I spoke of the matter here,--you may be quite sure of that. -That would bring trouble and annoyance to you and--well, I couldn't -allow that, you know. Just the same, he has disappeared, completely, -utterly. He got the scent somehow, and didn't lose a minute. Saved -himself from facing a firing squad, you may be sure. So far as we have -been able to discover, I am the only man who knew that he was up to -something wrong. That's the maddening part of it. I--you see, I actually -had the goods on him.” - -“You looked over your shoulder just now, Derrol,” she said, the colour -ebbing from her cheek. “Do you--do you suspect any one here? Any one of -the servants? They have all been with us for years,--except poor -Hodges, and he is dead,--and I know that Uncle Davenport trusts them -implicitly.” - -He held her a little closer. His lips were close to her ear, and the -half-whispered words were fraught with the deepest meaning. - -“See here, Louise, it's a desperately serious thing to say,--and I know -I'm a fresh, half-baked upstart, and all that sort of thing,--but I -just can't help feeling that if I hadn't spoken of that matter here last -week, we would have nabbed Mr. Spy practically red-handed.” - -“Oh, Derrol!” she whispered, aghast. “You don't know what you are -saying.” - -“It's the way I feel, just the same,” said he stubbornly. - -“Then you _do_ think the warning came from this house?” She attempted to -withdraw herself from his arms. - -“God bless you, darling,--I don't think it came from you, or in any way -through you,” he cried miserably. - -“Then, whom do you suspect?” she demanded. - -“It might have been Hodges,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked -away from her. - -“But Hodges was an Englishman, and violently anti-German. It couldn't -have been Hodges.” - -“In any event, he's dead and can't defend himself,” said he. “I trust -you, dearest, not to repeat a word of what I've just been saying,--_not -a word to any one._” - -“You are very foolish, Derrol,--but I promise. Not even to Uncle -Davenport or Aunt Frieda. They would be shocked beyond words if they -knew you--” - -“That's right, dear,--not even to Mr. or Mrs. Carstairs,--or that -bustling young son of theirs.” - -“It would be far more sensible to suspect me than either of them,” she -said. - -A latch-key turned in the front door, and a moment later young Alfred -Carstairs came whistling into the hall. - -“Hullo!” he called out, peering in upon them from the dimly lighted -hallway. He was shedding his overcoat. “How's the camp, Derrol? Getting -into shape?” - -“Getting shapelier every minute,” said Derrol Steele, crossing over to -shake hands with the youth. - -“Where's mother?” inquired Alfred, looking over the officer's shoulder -at his cousin, who had not risen. - -“Lying down, Alfie. She has been on the go all day. Much beauty is -required for this evening. She's giving it a chance to catch her -napping.” - -“By golly, it's the only thing that ever does catch her napping,” said -Alfred warmly. “She's a wonder, Derrol. She'd be a field-marshal if she -ever got into the army.” - -“I haven't the least doubt of it,” said Captain Steele, smiling. Even -as he uttered the jesting words, a strange, uncanny sense of their -importance took root in his mind. - -Very serious topics were discussed by the guests at Mrs. Carstairs' -dinner that evening. No one felt the least restraint, nor the slightest -hesitancy in speaking freely of matters that never were mentioned in -the open. Questions that could not have been answered outside the most -secret recesses of the State department were frankly asked here,--and -answered by some one who spoke with authority. No man feared his -neighbour, nor his neighbour's wife, for here were assembled only those -to whom the Government itself could look with confidence. These were the -people on the inside of everything, the spokes of the inner wheel,--the -people who knew what was going on in Washington, in London, and in -Paris. No alien ears were here to listen, no alien eyes to watch; -sanctuary for the true and loyal. - -One man there held his tongue, and spoke not of the things that were -vital: Captain Derrol Steele. It was not modesty alone that kept -him silent in this imposing group, nor the recognition of his own -insignificance. He had had his lesson. He was young enough to profit by -it. - -True, the wine may have had something to do with it. It usually does. A -beguiling lubricant is this thing that gets into the rustiest of brains -and produces a smooth combination of thought and thoughtlessness. In -any case, tongues wagged loosely and wits were never keener than in this -atmosphere of ripe security. A good many secrets were out for an airing. -They were supposed, in good time, to get back into their closets and lie -there as snugly as if they had never been disturbed. - -Mrs. Carstairs was never more brilliant than on this particular evening. -Always clever,--but never witty,--she was at her best when surrounded by -personalities such as these; when confronted by problems which permitted -her profound mentality to rise to its highest level and her singularly -clear-headed vision to project itself across spaces that defy even the -most far-seeing of men. She went below the surface of everything; she -saw nothing from a superficial point of view. What men liked in her, -and what other women envied and sometimes hated, was the rare faculty of -saying little unless she was prepared to say a great deal more. - -More than one great statesman had said, on occasion, that it was too bad -she wasn't a man! With a mind like that, well, there's no telling! No -wonder Davenport Carstairs was proud of her! - -And yet, with all this unstinted praise, with all this respectful -admiration, there was not a man among them who would have exchanged -places with Davenport Carstairs. Despite her beauty, her no uncertain -charm of manner, her strangely old-fashioned femininity, no man -coveted her. As a matter of fact, they were a little bit awed by Frieda -Carstairs. - -The foreign ambassador was leaving early. He explained to his hostess -that a very important conference was to be held that night in his rooms -at the hotel. He was profoundly apologetic, but if she knew how much -depended on the outcome of this very, _very_ important meeting,--and so -on, and so on. She said she understood perfectly; affairs of state, -she went on to say, always lead up to a state of affairs, and that, of -course, was hopeless unless taken in time. - -He was a little bewildered. Fearing that she had not fully grasped his -meaning, he proceeded to elaborate a little. It wasn't really a state -of affairs, nor, for that matter, an affair of state. Time, of -course,--yes, time was the essence of everything in these bitter days. -She was quite right; the whole trouble with the Allies had been the -wasting of time; now they realized the importance of doing things -promptly. She said she was glad that they were not letting the grass -grow under their feet. He mumbled something about winter and the -nothing much growing outside the tropics, and floundered with further -confidences. - -Leaning quite close to her he whispered something in her ear. It left -her perfectly calm. - -“This, you understand, my dear madam, is not to be repeated,--strictly -confidential,--absolutely--ah--on the quiet, as you say over here.” - -“I sha'n't even repeat it to my husband,” said she. - -The ambassador looked relieved. “I fear he would not approve of my -mentioning a matter that he seems to have withheld from you himself.” - -She smiled. - -“Possess your soul in peace, my dear Ambassador. I am as good as he at -keeping a secret.” - -“It is--ah--most imperative that this shouldn't--ah--get out, so to -speak,” said he, wishing in his soul that he had not let it out himself. - -“You have spoken to the Sphinx,” said she gravely. - -She happened to glance down the table at this juncture. Something -hypnotic drew her gaze directly to Captain Steele. He was regarding her -steadily. There was a queer, intent look in his eyes. For an instant -their gaze held, and then he looked away. She turned to speak to the man -on her left. If he had been an observing person, he would have noticed -the tired look that suddenly clouded her eyes,--briefly, fittingly, it -is true, but remaining long enough to have been detected by one less -absorbed in himself than he. No doubt his pride would have been hurt had -he observed it. - -The little Italian Countess spoke very frankly of conditions in her -country, of specific needs that called for immediate action on the part -of the American government, of plots and counterplots in the very heart -of the army, of political and ecclesiastical intrigue that sapped the -courage of the people, and of the serious situation on the Isonzo where -victorious Italian armies were in constant danger of collapse because -of an utter lack of support from behind the lines. She went so far as -to say that in the event of a supreme assault by the Austro-Germans, the -Italian armies would have to relinquish their hard-earned gains and fall -back,--perhaps in actual defeat. - -“But the Austrians are down and out themselves.” declared the cabinet -member. He spoke loudly, for he was at the far end of the table. “They -haven't a good solid kick left in them, much less anything like a -supreme assault, Countess.” - -“Let us hope you are right,” returned the Italian woman, the line -deepening between her eyes. “I only know that the Italians are in no -condition to withstand a great offensive if it should come. Oh, if only -England, and France,--and you, gentlemen,--could but be made to realize -the importance of a real victory over the Austrians,--if you could only -be made to see how desperately we are in need of all the support you can -give us in men, and guns, and food, and--aye, in confidence, too. If the -German Emperor knew the truth about our position on the Isonzo and in -Trentino, he--ah, _he_ would not wait, he would not hesitate. He would -move like lightning. He would send a million men to the aid of the -Austrians. He would strike with all his might,--and then, when it was -all over, you,--all of you,--would grate your teeth while he laughed -over another of your blunders.” - -The men all smiled tolerantly. She was a woman. That was just the way a -high-strung, emotional woman would talk. - -“It would be quite simple, Countess,” said Davenport Carstairs, “if the -Kaiser had even half a million men to spare. He is being kept pretty -busy in France and Flanders just now.” - -“Ah, but in Russia,” she cried vehemently. “What of the damned -Russians?” In her excitement she spoke the language of the army. Of her -hearers, the men seemed a little more shocked than the women. “Are they -keeping him pretty busy? No! Are they holding his vast armies in check? -No! They are doing more than that. They are shoving him back, driving -him and all of his men and guns out of Russia. Driving them down into -Italy and over to Flanders, that is what they are doing. And you,--you -and France and England,--will not wake up until it is too late. When -the beastly Russians have driven the Germans into Paris, and across the -English Channel, and down to Rome, then you will understand.” - -“But the Italians will hold the ground they have gained,” protested one -of the men. “I talked with members of the commission before they sailed -the other day, and there wasn't one of them who expressed the slightest -uneasiness about the Italian front. On the other hand, they were of the -opinion that the Italians would continue to advance. The Austrians are -shot to pieces.” - -“Italy was not represented in that secret mission, my dear sir,” said -the Countess, a trifle curtly. “You do not know what the Italians know, -and what they are actually dreading. They know they cannot resist a -great offensive.” - -“Well, as long as the Germans are ignorant of the true state of -affairs, I can't see that there is much to worry about,” said Carstairs -pleasantly. - -“But the Germans will not remain in ignorance for ever, Mr. Carstairs,” - exclaimed the Countess. “They find out everything,--everything, in -time.” - -“Not everything,” said the Admiral of the navy, blandly. “Their -marvellous spy system failed completely in the case of the -Franco-British special mission. The members of the party came, remained -here for more than a fortnight, sailed for home last week, and Germany -never had so much as an inkling of the visit. By this time the _Campion_ -is no doubt safely through the danger zone. I call that beating the -devil with his own stick.” - -“The _Campion?_” fell sharply from the lips of Mrs. Carstairs. - -“You are mistaken, Admiral. They sailed on the _Elston_,” said her -husband. - -The Admiral beamed. “My dear sir, the entire party was transferred to -the _Campion_ ten hours after the _Elston_ sailed out of this port. The -Secretary took no chances. He had that devilish Kitchener betrayal in -mind. There was the possibility, you know, of a leak somewhere. One -never can tell. So everything that could be thought of was done to -frustrate the 'system.' The destruction of the _Elston_ with those men -on board would have been a greater disaster to the Allies than the loss -of Kitchener or half the battle front in France. I happen to know the -transfer was made safely and according to plans. The _Elston_ continued -her voyage in convoy, but she was laden with nothing more precious than -food for the Germans.” - -“Food for the Germans?” cried the Italian Countess, aghast. - -The Admiral's smile broadened. “The most indigestible food that is -made in America,” said he. After a moment's perplexity, she smiled and -clapped her hands. - -Once more Mrs. Carstairs' gaze was drawn irresistibly to the young -captain half way up the table. His eyes were fixed on her again, and -again, as before, after an instant they were averted. Something in his -steady look seared her like a hot iron. He seemed to be searching -the innermost recesses of her brain,--and she quailed. His face grew -suddenly pale and drawn,--paler even than her own. - -The Admiral, having come sharply into prominence, continued to play his -high cards. He leaned back in his chair, neglecting a dessert of which -he was especially fond, and with considerable bumptiousness rambled on -sonorously. - -“We've been expecting word all day from Admiral Sims. The convoy is -a swift one. Both the _Campion_ and the _Elston_ should reach port -today,--or at the very latest tomorrow. I confess we've all been -anxious. They are wiring me from Washington as soon as--By the way, Mrs. -Carstairs, I took the liberty of instructing my aide to telephone me -here in case the report comes tonight. Hope you don't mind. I thought--” - -“Of course I don't mind, Admiral,” she said warmly. “On the contrary, I -am glad you thought of it. We are all terribly interested.” Late in the -evening,--in fact, just as the guests were preparing to depart,--the -Admiral was called to the telephone. When he rejoined the group a few -minutes afterward, his expression was serious. - -“Our precautions were well taken, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “The -_Elston_ was torpedoed this morning. Practically everybody on board was -lost.” - -There was a moment's silence. Then Captain Steele spoke. - -“So the Germans _did_ know that the Commission sailed out of New York -harbour on the _Elston_. It would seem, Admiral, that the spy sits -pretty close to the head of your board,--I mean, of course, your board -of strategy.” - -“By Gad!” growled the distressed sailor-man. “It--it is absolutely -incredible. There _couldn't_ have been a leak down there.” - -“Have you an idea how many people actually knew that the party was -sailing on the _Elston?_” inquired the young man. His face was very -white. - -The Admiral glanced around the room, rather helplessly. “Of course the -fact was known to quite a number of people,--such as we are here,--but, -what are we to do if we can't trust _ourselves?_ Nothing could have been -more carefully guarded. Not a line in the newspapers, not a word uttered -in public, not a----” - -“The information could not have come from any one directly connected -with the Navy department, Admiral,” said Steele slowly. - -“I'm glad to hear you say that, sir,” said the Admiral, stiffening. - -“For the simple and obvious reason that it was the _Elston_ and not the -_Campion_ they went after. A spy in such a position would have known of -the transfer.” - -“On the other hand, it may have been pure chance that they attacked -the _Elston_,” said Davenport Carstairs, a queer huskiness in his voice. -“Coincidence, and nothing more. Thank heaven, they didn't get the -_Campion_.” - -Steele was the last to leave. He said good night to Louise Hansbury in -the little hall outside. He had rung for the elevator. The door, on the -latch, had been closed behind them and they were quite alone for a few -minutes. - -“Louise,” he said, and suddenly his voice,--scarcely more than a -whisper,--sounded strange and unnatural to her, “it's a horrible thing -to say, but the--the trouble is right here in this house. You heard what -the Admiral said? I can't explain how it all happened, but suddenly I -had a--well, a revelation. A great, flaring light seemed to flash in my -face. I give you my word, it was actually blinding. I thought my heart -would never beat again. I saw through everything. It is all as plain as -day to me. God help us all, dearest,--it's--it's unspeakable. I've just -got to tell you,--so that you may be on your guard. Tomorrow--or as -soon as possible, at any rate,--you must make an excuse to get away -from here,--for a visit, or anything you can think of. But get away you -must!” - -“Do you know what you are saying, Derrolf” she whispered, clutching -his arm. She was trembling like a leaf, and swayed. An expression of the -utmost dread and horror filled her eyes. - -“Yes,--yes, I do. It is terrible,--but, by heaven, it's true,--as true -as we live and breathe.” - -She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Derrol,--I felt it -too,--tonight. What are we to do? What can be done?” - -“Hush! Here is the elevator. I can't say anything more tonight. I don't -have to go back to Camp till tomorrow night. Tomorrow morning,--I'll -call up. I must see you alone--and not here.” - -“I go out every morning for a walk,--about eleven,” she breathed. - -The elevator door slid open. - -“Good night,” said he. She clasped his hand in silence. Then she went -back into the apartment, and, as one drugged, passed the drawingroom -door and staggered down the hall toward her bedroom. - -Mrs. Carstairs, alone in the drawing-room, saw the girl pass, and -stepped quickly to the door. - -“Louise, dear,--are you ill!” she called out. - -“No,--Aunt Frieda. I--I'm all right. Good night.” - -“Good night, dear. Sleep late.” - -The door down the long hall closed softly, and Frieda Carstairs turned -back into the drawingroom with a sigh. Her husband was looking over the -night mail that had been piled on his desk in the study. She went in to -him. - -“I wonder if poor, dear Alfred is struggling with that abominable -nightmare of his,” she said. “Really, Davenport, the boy is wearing -himself out. I don't see why physics should be so difficult for him.” - -“They were difficult for me, my dear,” said he, looking up. Their eyes -met, and she smiled gently, lovingly. He took her firm, steady hand and -pressed it to his cheek.. - -“I think I'll run in and shoo him off to bed. If only he wouldn't smoke -that dreadful pipe while he studies. He breathes nothing but smoke.” - -“Doesn't hurt him a bit,” said he. “They've got sheet-iron lungs, you -see,--these sophomores.” - -She left him and went down to her son's room. Carstairs was staring -fixedly, intently into space when she returned,--he knew not how long -afterwards. He came out of his reverie with a start when she spoke to -him from the door. - -“Alfie is going out for a breath of fresh air,” she said. “It seemed -to me his room was stuffier and smokier than I've ever known it to be -before. Really, dear, he is dreadfully trying. He--” - -“My dear, you've never been a boy,” said he, collecting himself and -smiling. “You don't know what it is to be completely self-satisfied.” - -“I'll be back in a few minutes,” said Alfred, coming up behind his -mother. “Are you going to sit up much longer, mother?” - -“A little while. Hurry back, dear. Don't go out without your overcoat. -There is quite a chill in the air.” - - - - -CHAPTER V - -|MR. PAUL ZIMMERLEIN'S telephone rang shortly before midnight. He lived -in a small, exclusive hotel on one of the crosstown streets, near Fifth -Avenue. A brief conversation over the wire ensued. A few minutes later -he appeared at the desk in the office downstairs, dressed for the -street. He was very angry. - -“Why was I not informed when I came in this evening that Mr. Prince had -called up and was expecting me to join his party at the Helvetia for -supper, Mr. Rogers? He rang me up at nine o'clock and instructed you to -put the message in my box.” - -“I have no recollection of--” - -“Of course you haven't. You never do have any recollection. None of you. -I shall take the matter up with the manager in the morning, Rogers. -It has happened before. The least you could have done was to stick the -message in my box.” - -“I will inquire of the telephone operator. The regular boy is off -tonight. If there has been any carelessness, Mr. Zimmerlein, it has been -with her,--not with us, sir,” said the clerk, with the servility that is -sometimes mistaken for civility on the part of hotel clerks. - -“I haven't time to listen to her excuses. They have been waiting for me -since eleven o'clock, and I have been in my room since ten.” - -“I know, sir. It was a little before ten when you came in.” - -“Well, be good enough to investigate. I warn you that I intend to -complain in the morning.” - -“I'm sorry, sir,” began the clerk, but Zimmerlein was already on his way -to the street. - -The night-clerk scowled after him, and then retired behind the key-rack -to consult the operator. - -“What's the matter with you?” he demanded. “Zimmerlein's sore as a crab -about not getting a message that came in at nine,--he says,--and he 's -going to raise hell about it.” - -“Nobody called him up,--not till just a few minutes ago. It's the old -gag. I heard what the guy said to Zimmerlein,--about calling up at nine -and giving directions and all that bunk,--and I had to hold my tongue -between my teeth to keep from butting in and telling him he was a liar, -and--” - -“Tell that to Mr. Coxhorn in the morning,” broke in the clerk, and moved -languidly away. That was the extent of his investigations. - -The Helvetia was a brisk five minutes' walk from Zimmerlein's hotel. He -did it in three. - -“Is Mr. Prince entertaining in his rooms or in the café?” he inquired at -the desk. - -“In the café, Mr. Zimmerlein.” - -“Thanks.” - -Fifteen minutes later, he sauntered up to a table at which a party -of seven or eight people were seated. Nodding and smiling in his most -amiable manner to the ladies, he laid his hand on the shoulder of one of -the men. - -“Sorry, old man, but they didn't give me your message. I should have -been sitting on the doorstep waiting for you, if I'd known you really -wanted me. Thanks for calling me up again. It was good of you, and I'll -try to make up for all the lost time and trouble by being as agreeable -as I know how to be.” He added an encircling smile. The ladies appeared -to cheer up measurably. - -The man addressed, a huge individual with a tremendous expanse of white -shirt front, betrayed not the slightest sign of surprise or confusion. -With all the profound affability of a far-Westerner, he made the -newcomer welcome. If his steel-grey eyes bored inquiringly into -Zimmerlein's for the briefest instant, no one else at the table was -aware of the fact. Nor did any one observe the warning that shot back -from the narrowing eyes of the belated guest. - -A waiter produced a chair for Zimmerlein, and placed it between two of -the ladies, who, with evident eagerness, made room for him. His smile -deepened as he shook his head, affecting dismay. - -“Not yet, but soon,” he pleaded. “I ran across an old friend of yours -out in the lobby, Prince. Stillwell. I told him you'd be happy to have -him join you, but as he's just off the train, he says he's filthy.” - -“Where is he?” cried Prince, starting up. “I wouldn't miss seeing him -for anything in the world. An old pal of mine in Japan,” he explained to -his guests. - -“If you will excuse us both, we 'll--” began Zimmerlein apologetically. - -“Come along,” interrupted Prince, grabbing the other's arm. “Good old -Still! We 'll bring him back with us if we have to drag him in. You 'll -_love_ him,” he added boisterously. - -The two men hurried from the café. They did not speak until they reached -a deserted corner of the hotel lobby. - -[Illustration: 0111] - -“What's up?” demanded Prince. - -“I've just bad some damnably disturbing news. It's pretty bad, but I -think I've got word to the right people in time to head off--trouble. I -was just going to bed when I was called up on the 'phone. By God, he's -cool-headed, I'll say that for him. Said he was you, and wanted to know -why the devil I hadn't showed up over here. I was wise in a second. We -met in the most casual manner at the corner. He will go a long way, that -chap will, mark my words. He's as keen as a fox and as resolute as the -devil. I can't explain here, Prince. We must get back to your party. -My alibi lies there, you know, if I should happen to need it. You -understand, don't you?” - -“Certainly. I knew something was in the wind. Is it serious? Tell me -that.” - -“It _can_ be serious,--desperately serious. But we can't do anything -now. At one o'clock I shall ask you to excuse me, Prince. Engagement -very early in the morning. Much-needed rest,--and so on. And, by the -way, we were unable to locate Folwell. He--” - -“Stillwell, wasn't it?” - -“So it was. 'Grad, my nerves must be shot up worse than I thought. At -any rate, he had vanished.” - -“Have you managed to get in touch with any one else?” - -“I've sent word to--Jehovah!” Zimmerlein permitted himself what was -meant to be a smile, but was instead an ugly grin. - -“About the only name that's safe to utter in these days,” said Prince, -looking over his shoulder. - -“You've done your bit tonight, my friend, by simply being who and what -and where you are. Nothing more is required of you.” - -“I'm not asking questions,” said Prince, scowling. - -“You have asked _one_,” snapped Zimmerlein. “Oh, Lord! Haven't I a right -to--” - -“There is nothing more to be said on the subject,” said the other, -fixing the big man with a look that caused him to quail. “You know as -well as I just what our law is, Prince. I am not above it,--nor are you. -Now, let us return.” Shortly after one o'clock, Zimmerlein said good -night to the host and the guests upon whom he had deliberately imposed -himself, and went forth into the night. A short distance down the -street, he was hailed by a lone taxi-driver, who called out in the -laconic, perfunctory manner of his kind: - -“Taxi?” - -Zimmerlein walked on a few paces, and then, apparently reconsidering, -turned back. - -“Take me to the Pennsylvania,” he said, and got into the cab. - -When he took his seat, it was between two men who slunk down in the -corners and kept their faces and bodies well out of sight from the -occupants of passing cars and pedestrians on the sidewalk. - -An unusual amount of clatter attended the getting under way of the car. -The exhaust roared, the gears grated and snarled, and the loose links of -tire-chains banged resoundingly against the mud-guards. - -A quarter of an hour elapsed. Zimmerlein did most of the talking. Then, -as the taxi drew up in front of the little hotel in the cross-town -street, he got down and handed the driver a bank-note. His last words, -before leaving the car, were: - -“Remember, now. There must be no mistake, no slip-up. Be dead sure -before you do a thing. He is to disappear,--that's all. There must be no -trace,--absolutely no trace.” As he sauntered into the hotel, the -taxi rattled swiftly off in the direction of Broadway, its remaining -occupants silent and white-faced, but with lips and jaws rigidly set. - -“No complaint after all, Rogers,” said he to the night clerk, rather -jauntily. “My friend confessed that he hadn't called me up at all. It -was his nice little way of stringing me. Assuage the poor girl's grief -if you know how, Rogers. Tell her it's all right, and she can sleep -soundly at the switch. Also, be good enough to say to her that I -apologize for myself and for my friend.” - -Rogers watched him enter the elevator, and once more strolled back to -the switchboard. - -“Hey! Wake up. Zimmerlein's just come in. He's stewed and says his -friend's a liar. There won't be any court-martial.” - -The girl yawned. “Say, has that darned old clock stopped, or is it still -only ten minutes of two? It's been that for an hour. Never again for -me. Next time Pilcher wants to get off till half-past 'leven, he needn't -leave a call for me. I'm through accommodating that mutt. My Gawd! Two -o'clock, and he swore he'd be here by eleven. I ought to report him. Do a -guy like that a favour and he--What was that you said about old Zim-zim? -D'you say he was soused?” - -“No. I said stewed. He's carryin' an egg on an oyster fork. I never saw -him drunk before.” - -At his usual hour for breakfasting, Mr. Zimmerlein briskly entered the -dining-room the next morning and seated himself at his customary table -near the window. Two morning newspapers lay beside his plate of sliced -oranges. His eyes swept the headlines on the front page. A slight frown -darkened his brow. He looked again, a little more closely. Then he took -up the other paper. A certain eagerness that had been in his eyes -when he sat down gave way to something bordering on astonishment. His -interest passed quickly to the second, third and fourth pages. - -There wasn't a line,--not a solitary line about the sinking of the -_Elston!_ - -He had encountered Elberon late in the afternoon of the preceding day. -He was going into the club as the other came out. - -“You will read something great in the morning papers,” Elberson had said -guardedly. “Perhaps in the extras tonight.” - -“I am always reading something great in the newspapers,” he had replied. - -“They got the _Elston_. Report came about two o'clock. No details. I -doubt whether it is known in Washington yet.” - -But the morning papers had no account of the sinking. Not a word. What -did it mean? Could it be possible that _their_ news travelled so much -faster than that obtained by the eager, avid Press? Were they even ahead -of Washington? Elberon was in a position to know. He never went off -half-cocked. There wasn't the least doubt in Zimmerlein's mind that the -_Elston_ had been sunk,--but why this amazing failure of the newspapers -to---- He started suddenly. Comprehension flooded his brain. His eyes -lighted up again. He understood in a flash. Suppressed! The news of -the destruction of the _Elston_ with all those vitally important men on -board,--Why, of course! It _had_ to be suppressed! - -Nevertheless, he decided to drop in and see Elberon on his way down -town. - -As for last night's business, if it came to a head at all, it was after -the papers had gone to press. Still, he took the time to run through -both papers with unusual thoroughness. It was barely possible that a -paragraph,--one of those widely spaced paragraphs that always exact -attention,--might have stopped the presses at the last minute. - -He slid indifferently over the account of a disastrous fire along the -water-front of an American port from which heavily laden ships departed -almost daily for French and English destinations. He knew all about -_that_. - -Elberon was not at his place of business. This defection on the part of -Elberon exasperated him. It was a new sensation. He could not account -for the sudden and admittedly unreasonable sense of irritation that -assailed him, for, after all, Elberon regulated his actions according to -the demands of his own business. The merchant's secretary announced -that he doubted if his employer would be in the office before noon. He -thought he had gone Christmas shopping with his wife. - -“Damn Christmas!” muttered Zimmerlein as he closed the door behind him -and stalked off into the counter-lined aisles that led by rectangular -turns to the street. - -The business of the night just ended had got on his nerves. His hand -shook a little as he paused inside the doors to light a cigarette. It -was a bad “business”; there was no use trying to make light of it. - -Miss Mildred Agnew welcomed him with a cheery “Good morning,” and the -alert office-boy went her one better by adding the information that it -was “a fine day, sir.” - -“Any messages, Miss Agnew?” inquired Zimmerlein. - -“A telephone call, sir, from the steward of the Black Downs Country -Club. He says there is a leak and wants to know if you, as chairman of -the house committee, will do something about it right away.” - -“A leak?” he demanded, stopping short. - -“So he said, Mr. Zimmerlein.” - -“Get him on the telephone and ask him to come in and see me at once.” - -He was frowning darkly as the office-boy relieved him of his hat and -coat and hung them up in the closet. His mail received scant attention. -As a matter of fact, he swept the pile aside and touched a button on the -corner of the desk. - -Thorsensel came into the private office, carrying a roll of blue-prints. - -“Any word?” asked Zimmerlein, as the other carefully and deliberately -spread the prints on the desk and weighted one end of them down with a -heavy steel ruler. - -“No. Not a word.” - -“It's--it's rather queer, don't you think?” - -“You are nervous, Zimmerlein,” said Thorsensel, after a moment in which -he studied the other with a keen and soul-searching eye. “It won't do, -my friend. Nervousness tends to irritation, and irritation leads to -impatience. You know what happens to the impatient, Zimmerlein.” - -“Damn it all, I _am_ nervous. I admit it. Don't lecture me. I'm not -going to lose my grit,--or my head either.” - -“You can't lose one without the other, you know,” remarked Thorsensel -sententiously. “What do you suppose has happened?” - -“Nothing,--nothing at all,” said the other. “You mean that--that -they didn't pull it off? God, that is the very worst that could have -happened.” - -“That is exactly what I mean. You need not worry, however. Trust Scarf -to play it safe. If he saw that there was the slightest chance of -failure, he would have taken no risk. That's Scarf, my friend. Calm -yourself. We will hear from him before noon. He will have worked out -another plan, you may be sure.” - -It may be mentioned here and now that Zimmerlein had consulted -Thorsensel--the mastermind,--before taking a step in the affair of -the night just past. He had gone directly from his hotel to the little -French café down the street. He knew that it was the unvarying habit of -the strange, silent engineer to drop in at this quaint place for a bite -of something to eat and a bottle of red wine at midnight. Thorsensel -never missed doing this. There was method in his continence. - -A big and vital problem confronted Zimmerlein. - -He did not dare act without consulting his pseudo-subordinate. -Thorsensel took the matter out of his hands. It was he who laid the -plans. Zimmerlein became merely an instrument, with certain functions to -perform, and nothing more. - -“I hope you are right,” said Zimmerlein, absorbing some of the other's -fatalistic assurance. “God help us if you are wrong.” - -“My dear man, God helps us because we are right, not because we -are wrong,” said Thorsensel, laying his big, clenched fist upon the -desk,--not violently but with a gentleness that suggested vast strength -held under control by the power of a vaster will. - -Zimmerlein drew a long, deep breath. - -“You've heard about the _Elston_, I suppose?” - -“Yes. They got her. I knew they would. That was the greatest tip we've -ever had. Our report is that not one of the big bugs on board was saved. -A number of the crew got off in boats, but they had to hurry. She went -down in eight minutes. They made a good job of it, bless 'em. No wonder -the night wind weeps! Now, we'll see what old England has to say for the -invincibility of her fleet, and what she 'll say to the United States -for letting the cat out of the bag.” He laughed aloud,--for the -first time in the memory of Zimmerlein. Several of the men in the -drafting-room looked up. They stared unblinkingly at the laugher. - -The forenoon wore away. Thorsensel shuttled between the drafting-room -and the private office. He no longer laughed. The pleased, confident -look had left his eyes; in its stead lurked something that finally -developed into real, undisguised anxiety. An atmosphere of restraint -settled down like a cloud over the offices. The uneasiness of the two -principal figures in the place was acutely infectious. - -The report of Peter Hooge, the steward of the Black Downs Country Club, -who arrived shortly after noon, neither increased nor lessened the -strain. He was unnecessarily alarmed. What if secret service men did -visit the club-house and question the employés? That was not an unusual -proceeding. They were doing something of the sort all the time. But, -said Peter, they obtained a list of all the members and guests of the -club present on the premises at the time of the Reynolds explosion. -Naturally, said both Zimmerlein and Thorsensel: That was just what they -_would_ do. Precious little good it would do them, however. - -“I was obliged to show them my passports and papers from the Swiss -Government,” said Peter. - -“Well, they were all in order, weren't they?” - -“Perfectly. That isn't the point. The mere fact that they asked for them -proves something, doesn't it?” - -“You are too old a bird to be frightened by pop-guns, Hooge,” said -Thorsensel, gnawing at his moustache. “These fellows, from what I know -of them, couldn't catch the scent of a polecat.” - -“I'm not so sure of that,” put in Zimmerlein. “They've landed some -pretty big fish.” - -“They've landed a pack of blatant asses,” snapped Thorsensel. “Good -God, man, you don't put Reistelen and others of his stripe in the class -with--well, with a few I could mention, do you? They've only touched the -surface, my friend. It is very deep,--very deep indeed--where the big -fishes lie. Go back to your work, Hooge,--and don't worry us again with -trifles.” - -Late in the afternoon Scarf came in. He came as a stoop-shouldered, -consumptive-looking, unwashed District Messenger of uncertain age and -stability. - -“Well?” cried Zimmerlein, glaring at the man. - -“Where in hell have you been?” grated Thorsensel. - -“That's just where I have been,” replied the messenger, straightening -his bent figure and drawing a long, full breath. He passed his hand -across his brow. “Or rather, I've been close enough to get an unpleasant -whiff of it.” - -“Don't sit down!” exclaimed Zimmerlein, as the man prepared to sink into -a chair. - -“I 'm all in, I 've got to,” and down he flopped. After a moment he -leaned forward and fixed the others with burning, hitter eyes. “In the -first place, do you know what's happened to Elberon?” - -“No,” fell in unison from the lips of the two men. - -“Well, he's sitting up in the United States Attorney's office with half -a dozen experts trying to pump intelligence out of him.” - -An imprecation ground its way out between Thorsensel's teeth. -Zimmerlein's lower lip tightened against his teeth. - -“I had it from Zumpe. They went to Elberon's house early this -morning,--on the quiet, of course,--nothing for the public,--and took -him down for a grilling. Zumpe says old Elberon has been getting pretty -gabby with one or two people who ought to be good Germans but ain't.” - -“The infernal fool! I have warned him repeatedly,” snarled Thorsensel. -“He has been very thick lately with Kleinhans, the banker. I told him to -take no chances with that man. I mentioned a few others too.” - -“Some of 'em are straight, eh?” queried Scarf, a twist at the corner of -his mouth that went for a sneer. - -“Straight? No! Crooked as rattlesnakes! I wouldn't trust a man like -Kleinhans out of my sight. He actually thinks he's an American,--and God -knows that makes him worse than one. Well? Goon. What else?” - -“That's all I know about Elberon. As for that other little matter,--” He -stopped to wet his lips. - -Zimmerlein muttered hoarsely: “Little matter!” - -“I'm lucky, that's all,” said Scarf, and again passed his hand over his -brow. - -“Get on with it. You can't stay here all afternoon,” commanded -Thorsensel. - -“We came within an ace of dropping into a pit--a bottomless pit at -that. Why didn't you tell me that secret service men were trailing him, -Zimmerlein?” - -“What? What's that you say?” - -“Why, damn your eyes, Zimmerlein, that guy was suspected of giving -information to the enemy. He's been watched like a hawk. We got onto -it just in time. Don't you see what would have happened if they had -followed us to his room? You don't, eh? Well, I'll tell you. We would -have been nabbed with him,--before anything could have happened,--caught -in the very net they were laying for him. His _pals_,--that's what they -would have made of us,--his comrades, mind you, not his enemies. How -the devil could we have explained? And would they have believed him, no -matter what he said about us? Not on your life. The very thing they were -watching for would have happened. A rendezvous! They would have had him -dead to rights,--delivering information received earlier in the night -to two German agents,--oh, what a diabolical joke it would have been -on him, and what a devil of a mess we would have been in! God, I shiver -every time I think of it,--and I've been shivering all day, let me tell -you.” - -“Secret service men after _him?_” muttered Thorsensel, incredulously. -“What's the angle, Zimmerlein,--what's the angle? You are supposed to be -on the inside up there. What do you know about this?” - -“I am completely in the dark. I can't understand it, Thorsensel. It--are -you sure, Scarf?” - -“Absolutely. They got Blechter,--yanked him off the taxi when he stopped -around in the next block, according to plans. He was to wait for us -there,--fixing his engine as a blind,--stalling for time. He put up a -fight,--poor fool. They got him just the same.” - -“Will he squeal?” demanded Zimmerlein, pacing the floor. - -“You ought to know. He's your protégé,” said Scarf succinctly. - -“Better dead than alive, I'd say,” said Thorsensel unfeelingly. “Go on.” - -“Well, from all I could learn, two of them waited outside the building -and two of 'em were inside--I don't know just where. I think one of them -was running the front elevator. All I know is that Ruddy and I barely -had time to get out of the window and onto a little balcony and drop -down to the one below, before they smashed in the door. Twelve foot -drop, too,--and the balcony wasn't more than three feet wide. If we'd -missed--Lord!” - -“You were in his room?” cried Thorsensel. - -“Sure. We got in through the building next door, sneaked up ten flights -of stairs to the top. Got out on the roof through the 'dog-house,' and -dropped down to the other roof. Sort of penthouse arrangement up there. -Very simple after that. We had his apartment pretty well marked. Ninth -floor front. It's closed except when he comes up occasionally from camp -for a night or two. Family in the South somewhere, servants dismissed. -We didn't waste any time. Had it all doped out. Went to his door and -rang the bell. Pretty soon he came and opened it and asked what we -wanted. We told him right off the reel that we were in the secret -service and had to have a talk with him at once about a certain party -he knows. He told us to go to hell. Then I showed him my badge and -mentioned a name that bowled him over. He said: 'My God!' and drew back -into the room. We went in and closed the door. - -“I asked him first if there was anybody in the apartment--anybody that -would be likely to hear our conversation. He said he was alone,--his -people were out of town for the winter. Ruddy asked him point blank -just what he knew about a certain party,--all of it. He came back with -a question. 'Has there been an arrest?' 'Yes,' says I. He sat down, limp -as a rag. 'My God, it's terrible--horrible,' he says. 'Who put you wise? -How much is actually known?' That was enough for Ruddy. He stuck the -gun under his ear and let him have it. He never knew what hit him. Ruddy -dropped the revolver on the floor beside the chair,--just where he would -have dropped it himself,--and then we started out to see if we could -find anything in the apartment that oughtn't to be lying around loose. I -forgot to say there was a Maxim silencer on the gun. We had just entered -the first bed-room when his door bell rang. Two hearts stopped beating -right there and then. For a minute we were paralysed. Then there was -pounding on the door, and we heard some one say, 'Open up, or we 'll -smash it in!' - -“No use wasting time on minor details. After we got onto the -balcony below, we opened the French windows, and sneaked into a big -apartment,--darker than Egypt except when the light from a big electric -sign down the street flashed every few seconds. We got out into the -hall without rousing anybody and started down the stairs. Of course, we -thought it was the elevator man pounding on the door up there,--he might -have heard the muffled report if he happened to be near that floor. God -was with us. We got down to the ground floor all right, but there we -struck something worse than a stone wall. Two men were standing right -in front of the passenger elevator. We jumped behind a curtain they -have hanging there to hide the stairway. They didn't hear us. They were -talking about Blechter. We knew in a second what they were. There was -a cubby hole under the stairs where they keep mops and brooms and such -stuff. We got in there, leaving a crack through which we could hear. -After awhile the front elevator came down. We heard 'em all talking. -They said he had shot himself, and they cursed their luck because they -hadn't been able to take him alive. He must have been warned that they -were after him. That's what they were roaring about. After a while we -got out of the mop-hole and sneaked down to the basement. The doors were -locked, and there were men in the engine room--a night fireman and a -friend of his who was drunk and had come in to sleep it off. Somebody -was walking up and down in the little court outside. We didn't dare risk -a dash for it, so we hid under a pile of last summer's awnings for a -couple of hours. When we couldn't stand it any longer, we decided to put -on a bold front and pass ourselves off as plainclothes-men. It was dead -easy. The employes about the place were scared stiff. All we had to do -was to look hard at the head porter and the back elevator man, and tell -'em not to let anybody go near the storeroom for apartment E 9,--not on -their lives. Here's the evening paper. You can read what it says.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -|Louise Hansbury did not go out for her customary “constitutional” that -morning. She arose, tired and depressed after a sleepless night. Soon -after she had her breakfast,--chocolate and toast and a prescribed -porridge,--she complained of a sudden and violent nausea. - -Mrs. Carstairs went in to see her, and was alarmed. She took the girl's -temperature and then called up the doctor. - -“You have a fever,” she said. “You must go back to bed. It's nothing, I -daresay, but we have to be on the safe side, dear.” - -Louise betrayed her agitation. She pleaded to be allowed to dress and go -out for her walk. There were moments when actual fear lurked in her dark -eyes. - -“I will be all right in a little while, Aunt Frieda. Don't be cross with -me. I must have eaten something last night that disagreed with me. The -lobster,--I ate a tiny bit of it.” - -“Very likely,” said her aunt calmly. “All the more reason for being -careful today. No, my dear, I must insist on your remaining in bed,--at -least until Dr. Browne has seen you.” - -“When is he coming?” - -“The attendant said she could locate him and would send him here as soon -as possible. He is out making his calls.” - -“The chocolate tasted queerly this morning, Aunt Frieda,” said the girl, -feverishly. - -“Imagination. Nothing tastes right when one's stomach is upset.” - -“Oh, I want so much to get out for a breath of fresh air. It is a -perfectly lovely day. I am sure Dr. Browne will say it's the best thing -in the world--” - -“Dr. Browne doesn't know everything,” interrupted Mrs. Carstairs. -She laid her hand on the girl's hot forehead. “You _must_ go back -to bed,--just for a little while,” she said, and there was an -inexorableness in her tone that roused swift resentment in Louise. A -rebellious, angry light smouldered in her eyes. “I know what is best for -you. If it should turn out to be ptomaine poisoning--” - -“It can't be ptomaine if it came from the chocolate I drank,” sad -Louise, excitement causing her voice to tremble and to take on a certain -shrillness. - -“I am confident it is all due to nervousness,” said Mrs. Carstairs. -She spoke in a patient, consoling manner. “Dr. Browne will give you -something to straighten out your digestion, and you will be all right by -tomorrow. You are not strong yet, you know. Just be patient, my dear. It -takes time.” - -“I should like to telephone, Aunt Frieda,” said the girl abruptly. -Submissive to the gentle but unyielding authority of the older woman, -who dominated as one with the power to scourge if resistance continued, -she had begun to divest herself, rather helplessly, of the gay peignoir -in which she had breakfasted. With feverish haste, she slipped her arms -through the loose folds, and faced her aunt. There was defiance in her -glance. For an instant it held. - -The calm smile and the tolerant shake of the head, as to a pleading -child, shattered her resolve; she saw that argument was useless. The -robe fell from her shoulders as she turned away with a sob in her -throat. - -“Is it important?” inquired the older woman. - -“I--this afternoon will do as well, I suppose,” replied the girl, -without turning her head. - -“Let me call up for you, dear. It is no trouble at all. I can explain -that you are ill.” - -“No, thank you, Aunt Frieda. It--it doesn't matter.” - -She hesitated about confiding to Mrs. Carstairs that she was going out -to meet her lover. Something told her that it would be the wrong thing -to do,--something that for want of another name would have to go as -cunning. She shared a vague, disturbing secret with Steele.... - -Mrs. Carstairs tucked the bedclothes about her. - -“The doctor will be here soon, I am sure,” she said. “Do you feel any -better? Are you more comfortable?” - -“I am in no pain,--if that's what you mean. Just this wretched nausea. -What do the morning papers say about the loss of the _Elston_, Aunt -Frieda?” - -“Nothing, I believe. Your uncle says there was no mention of it. I -daresay the news has been held up for the time being. Waiting for full -details. Wasn't it fortunate,--wasn't it providential that the transfer -to the _Campion_ was so cleverly accomplished?” - -A maid-servant came to the door. - -“You are wanted on the telephone, Mrs. Carstairs. Shall I say you are -engaged?” - -“Who is it, Wrenn?” - -“A gentleman. I couldn't catch the name, Mrs. Carstairs.” - -“I will see who it is.” - -After she had closed Louise's door behind her, Frieda Carstairs stood -stockstill in the long corridor. She put her hand to her breast and -held it there lightly, as if to transmit its vital strength to the organ -which pounded so violently. Her tall figure was tense; her face took on -the pallor of death and its rigidity. For as long as fifteen or twenty -seconds, she remained motionless. Then her lips moved stiffly; they -twitched as in a spasm of pain. The two words they formed hut did not -utter were: - -“Poor girl!” - -Once, as she covered the short distance to her own sitting-room, her -figure swayed slightly. She even put out a hand to steady herself -against the wall,--a needless precaution, for she instantly regained -command of herself. - -She closed the door, and, before taking up the receiver, threw in -the device which cut out the instrument from other extensions in the -apartment,--those in the butler's pantry, her husband's study, and the -one that stood on the night-table at the head of his bed. Her knees -suddenly became weak; they trembled as with the palsy. She sat down at -the writing table and dropped her elbow heavily on the top. Again she -feared that she was going to faint. - -“Yes?” she murmured thickly into the transmitter, and, instantly -realizing that her voice betrayed nervousness and even alarm, repeated -the word firmly, crisply. “Yes,--this is Mrs. Carstairs.” - -“I am speaking for the _Evening----_” (the name of the newspaper was -indistinctly pronounced)--“and I called up, Mrs. Carstairs, to ask if -it is true that Captain Derrol Steele was engaged to be married to your -niece, Miss Louise Hansbury?” - -She did not reply. Her lips parted but no sound issued forth. - -Again the voice spoke in her ear. “Are you there?” - -The “yes” she uttered in reply was little more than a hoarse gasp. And -then: “I hear you quite distinctly.” There was a click at the other end. -Slowly, as in a daze, she hung up the receiver. Not another word passed. - -She did not leave the apartment that day, but spent most of the time -with her niece, whose indisposition was promptly diagnosed as an acute -attack of indigestion by the learned and complacent physician, who dosed -her and went his way. He ordered her to remain in bed; he would run in -and see her in the morning. If anything, ah!--a--alarming turned up, he -murmured to Mrs. Carstairs, she was to call him at once. Not likely, of -course, said he, nothing to be apprehensive about, but--well, you never -can tell. Resistance not yet fully restored,--and, “after all, as -I've said all along, Mrs. Carstairs, one's own resistance is the best -chemistry going, and one has to fill his own prescription when it comes -to that sort of thing, don't you know.” - -Being a very fashionable doctor he gave her pyromedan to bring down the -temperature in a hurry, and codeine to quiet the pain. - -Davenport Carstairs seldom reached his home before six or half-past. It -was his custom,--if business happened to be indulgent,--to drop in -at his favourite club about four in the afternoon. On this afternoon, -however, he drove straight home from the office. The clock in the hall -was striking four as he entered the apartment. The afternoon newspapers -were under his arm,--four or five of them. - -“Has Mrs. Carstairs come in, Hollowell?” he asked. - -“Mrs. Carstairs did not go out today, sir. Miss Hansbury is ill.” - -Ordinarily Carstairs would have been disturbed by this information. -He had been gravely worried over his niece's condition. Hollowell's -supplementary statement, however, appeared to have fallen on deaf ears. - -“Say that I'm home, Hollowell, and in my room.” - -“Very good, sir. Is there anything I can do, sir?” - -“Do? What do you mean?” - -“I thought perhaps you might be ill, sir. I--” - -“Not at all, not at all,” somewhat irascibly. “Ask Mrs. Carstairs to -come to my room--Wait! Have you had any news here today?” - -“No, sir,--nothink as I am aware of, sir.” - -“No--er--commotion?” - -“I think not, sir. It isn't serious. Sort of--ah--what you might call -stomach--ah--although cook says it can't have been anything she ate -last--” - -“_By_ the way, what made you think I was ill?” - -“Well,--since you ask, sir,--you do look a bit seedy, sir,--that is to -say pale and--” - -“I wish to see Mrs. Carstairs alone. Please avoid mentioning my return -in Miss Hansbury's presence.” - -He went at once to his study, where, moved by the remark of the butler, -he stared long and hard at his features in a mirror. His face was ashen -grey, and suddenly, strangely old. - -He had tossed the newspapers on the rare old Italian table in the centre -of the room. After a few moments of complete abstraction, his dull, -frowning gaze was raised from the floor to sweep the room,--which, for -some strange, almost uncanny cause, seemed almost unfamiliar to him. And -yet it was the same,--nothing had been changed. Only he had altered--his -own perspective had undergone a vast, incomprehensible change. His eyes -falling upon the papers, he took them up, one by one, and stared again -at a certain headline in each,--a raw caption that fascinated him and -hurt him like the cut of a knife. - -It did not occur to him until long afterwards, and then only in -retrospective contemplation of events that filled the most important day -in his life, that his wife was a long time in appearing. She came into -the study at last, and, as was her unvarying custom, pressed her lips to -his cheek. He noticed that her lips, always moist and soft and alive, -were hot and dry and as dead as parchment. Before he spoke a word to -her, he crossed the room and closed the door into the hall. - -She was staring at him in amazement as he turned toward her again. - -“What has happened, Davenport! You--you look so strange,--so--Oh, -something dreadful has happened! Is it--is it Alfred! Tell me! For God's -sake, don't--” - -“It isn't Alfred, my dear,” said he. There was a dull, hollow note in -his voice,--a note that held to one key. “Where is Louise!” - -“In bed. She hasn't been well--” - -“We must manage somehow to break this thing gently to her. It -might--there is no telling what it may do to her, Frieda.” - -She steadied herself against the table. Her face now was as white as -his. It had been pale before; now it was livid. - -“What is it, Davenport?” He looked searchingly, anxiously into her -eyes for a moment, and then said: “It will be a shock to you too, -Frieda,--but I know you. You can take it like a soldier. Derrol Steele -shot himself last night. He is dead. He--There, there, dearest! I -shouldn't have blurted it out like--sit down here, Frieda! That's right! -Poor old girl! Curse me for a blundering fool! I might have known it -would be a dreadful shock to you. You were devoted to him. He--” - -“Tell me,--tell me everything, Davenport,” she broke in, her eyes fixed -on his lips. She did not look into his eyes. He was leaning over her, -clasping one of her hands,--a hand that suddenly became limp after -the utmost rigidity. “Just a moment. Compose yourself. Pull yourself -together, dear. It's--it's a cruel story--an incredible story. I would -have staked my soul on Derrol Steele. I've known him since he was a -little boy. If I had been asked to name the most honourable, the most -loyal man in the--but, Frieda, I was wrong--I was deceived in him,--just -as you were--and Louise. Louise! God, how this will crush that poor, -innocent, loving--” - -“Tell me!” she insisted, her fingers tightening on his, her voice -scarcely more than a whisper. - -For answer, he placed the newspaper in her hands, and pointed to the -headline at the top of the page. - -“Read it, Frieda. Read this first.” - -He sat on the edge of the table, his arms folded across his breast, and -waited for her to finish. At last the paper fell from her fingers and -she looked up into his face. Her eyes were bleak. - -“I can't believe it, Davenport,--I will not believe it of Derrol -Steele.” - -“As soon as I saw the paper,--about two o'clock, I should say,--I -hurried over to the United States Attorney's office. The story is true, -Frieda. It appears that a secret service agent--'gad, how marvellous -they are!--an agent overheard scraps of a conversation between two men -late last night,--in front of a little French restaurant, I think -it was. Steele's name was mentioned two or three times. He was not -interested, however, until he heard them speak of a man long suspected -by the department. Then he pricked up his ears. The marshal did not -repeat the name, for obvious reasons. The man heard enough to convince -him that this suspect and one or two other men were to be at Steele's -apartment before three o'clock this morning. The address was carefully, -precisely given by one of the men, who was very greatly agitated. -Captain Steele had vital information in his possession,--that much, at -least, the listener was able to grasp. One sentence he heard distinctly. -I recall it clearly. 'Tomorrow will be too late,' This was enough for -the agent. He was too clever to arrest these men on the spot. The way -was clear for the seizure of at least four or five men, including an -officer in the United States Army. So he--are you listening, dear?” - -“Yes, yes!” she replied, as if waking from a dream. - -“This agent had been set there to watch for a man and a woman, posing -as French people, who are under surveillance. As soon as the speakers -parted, he rushed up the street to an hotel, and called up headquarters. -This was too big a thing to be sidetracked for the French couple. -Several operatives were dispatched immediately to assist him. They went -to the building where Derrol lives--or lived. They seized the driver of -the taxi-cab, but the others evidently got wind of the raid, for when -they went up to Steele's apartment, hoping to catch them in the place -with him, they found him alone. He had slipped a bath gown over his -pajamas and was undoubtedly waiting for his fellow-conspirators. He -realized in an instant that he was trapped. They smashed in the door. -While the violent noise was going on, he shot himself. They did not hear -the report, however, due to the clatter and to the fact that there was -a silencer on the revolver. There was the faintest sign of a pulse, -indicating that the shot had been fired only a minute or two before they -burst in and discovered him sitting in a chair not twenty feet from the -door.” - -The tears rolled down the cheeks of Davenport Carstairs. His voice -broke. - -“I can't believe it of him, Frieda,--I can't believe it.” - -Her face was ghastly. “We have the proof, Davenport,--the indisputable -proof,” she murmured. - -“The proof? What proof have _we?_” - -“The best proof in the world. He shot himself. Only a guilty man would -have taken his own life in the circumstances. We--we must believe it of -him, Davenport. That poor, sick girl! How are we to tell her?” - -Of the two, she was now by far the more composed. Except for the -colourless lips and an almost lavender-like hue that stole slowly into -her cheeks just below the temples, indicative of the vast effort she had -been called upon to exert in order to regain command of her nerves, she -was visibly calm and self-contained. Her husband had sunk dejectedly -into a chair. For many minutes no word passed between them. It was she -who spoke first. - -“You say they caught one of the men--one of the others, I mean?” she -inquired. - -“The taxi-driver.” - -Her lips parted to form another question. She withheld it. With her -handkerchief she wiped away the moisture that suddenly appeared at the -corners of her mouth--oozing from between close-pressed lips. - -She read the accounts in the other papers, her face absolutely -emotionless. After a while he looked up, and, unobserved, watched her -face. - -“You are a very wonderful woman, Frieda,” he said as she laid the last -of the papers on the table. Her answer was a faint smile and a shake of -the head. - -She arose and started resolutely toward the door. As she neared it, she -faltered, and then turned back to him. - -“Davenport, I have just had a most disturbing thought. It also may have -occurred to you. Derrol Steele was a trusted and familiar guest in -this house. He heard many important,--let me go on, please,--I can see -revulsion in your eyes. Whether we like it or not, we must look at it -squarely from every point of view. Last night, for example, he heard -the Admiral; he heard what the Countess had to say about the Italian -situation. Going farther back, you yourself spoke in his presence of the -sailing of the _Elston_ with all those men on board.” - -“I see what is in your mind, Frieda,” he said slowly. “You mean we may -be dragged into it?” - -“Not at all,” she said rather sharply. “We need not be drawn into it in -the slightest degree unless we volunteer information that concerns no -one but ourselves. Why should any one know that he came into possession -of facts here in our home?” - -“Such things are bound to leak out, my dear. The investigation will be -thorough. They will go to the bottom of this. Of course, I can manage -it so that we sha'n't come in for any publicity, but we can't escape -questioning.” - -“And are we to admit that we discussed these very grave and important -matters in his presence?” - -“We are to tell the truth, Frieda. You should not forget that we spoke -of them in the presence of an officer in the United States Army.” - -After a moment she said: “I daresay you are right, Davenport. You are -always right. I was only thinking that in view of the fact that there is -no proof against him except the few words overheard by that man in front -of the café,--well, it is possible, don't you see, that there may have -been some horrid, appalling mistake. They have no other proof,--unless -the United States Attorney withheld something from you.” - -“They have the best proof in the world. He shot himself, as you have -said.” - -She half closed her eyes. A queer little spasm twisted her lips apart. - -“Yes,” she said unsteadily, “yes, he shot himself.” - -Her hand was on the door-knob. - -“Are you going in to tell her now, Frieda?” - -“I must have a little time,--just a little, dear. I am more shaken -than you think. I must have time to collect myself. It will be very -difficult, Davenport. Stay here. Do not come unless I call to you.” - -“I leave it all to you, Frieda,--God bless you and God give you -strength.” - -The door closed behind her. He sat motionless for a long time, wondering -whether he could hear her call to him with that door and doubtless -another intervening. Strange that she should have closed it. He would -wait a little while,--a few minutes only,--and then he would open it -and--listen. - -She went straight to her own room.... Presently she lifted the telephone -receiver from the hook. The next moment she replaced it, but did not -release it from her tense fingers. - -She sat rigid, staring at the instrument, resolve and indecision -struggling for mastery. At last she pushed the instrument away and sank -back in the chair as if exhausted. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -|THE doctor arrived at eight. He could not afford to disregard the -summons of such a man as Davenport Carstairs. So he told his wife to go -on to the Opera without him; he would join her as soon as possible,--in -fact, it might be possible to get there before the overture was ended, -or, at the very latest, soon after the curtain went up. Make his -apologies, and all that. This was an urgent case. - -Close on his heels came two men to see Mr. Carstairs.... - -Miss Hansbury was in a pitiable condition. For the better part of two -hours, Frieda Carstairs had been with her. Every one else, not excepting -her uncle, was denied admission to the room. From time to time, the -sound of voices came through the closed door,--one shrill and rising to -the pitch of frenzy, the other firm, gentle, soothing--one that seemed -to croon. A sharp-eared listener outside would have caught an occasional -sentence wailed in the despairing treble, but he would have made little -of it, for it dwindled away into a smothered, inarticulate jumble of -words. He might have distinguished the oft-repeated cry: “You know it -isn't true! You know it! You know it!” - -Carstairs grasped the doctor's arm the instant he entered the apartment. - -“For God's sake, Doctor, give her something to quiet her immediately. -I--I cannot endure it. We should have waited. I had no idea it would be -like this. Mrs. Carstairs hasn't left her for an instant. I can hear her -moaning and--” - -“Is it this--ah--news about young Steele?” inquired the doctor blandly. -He rubbed his hands. - -“Yes--yes! We thought it best to tell her before she got it from the -servants, or the papers, or--” - -“Dreadful affair,--most shocking. I knew him very slightly, but he -seemed a most delightful chap. By Jove, it is really distressing, the -way the Germans have undermined our very--” - -“She is in a most deplorable condition, Doctor. Don't delay an instant, -please,--and do not leave her until you are convinced there is no danger -of--” He broke off abruptly. - -“Ahem! Yes, yes,--ah,--I'll remain as long as--ah,--I feel the least bit -uneasy about her.” - -“All right, Doctor,--if there is the remotest danger of--” - -“Oh, I fancy there isn't any real danger of _that_, Mr. Carstairs. -Compose yourself. We 'll have her sleeping like a baby in no time at -all. Had you an inkling that Steele was that sort of a--” - -“And will you please send Mrs. Carstairs out of the room at once?” - -“Yes, yes,--immediately. Leave it to me, leave it to me,” and off he -went, with a sprightliness that would have, surprised his dignity if he -had had the slightest notion at that moment that he still possessed such -a thing. - -But Mrs. Carstairs refused to be sent out of the room. She remained -steadfast at the girl's side, holding and stroking her hand. - -“I cannot,--I will not leave her, Doctor Browne,” she said, compressing -her lips. - -The butler apologetically stuck his head into Mr. Carstairs' study a few -minutes after the doctor's arrival. - -“Sorry, sir, but there's two gentlemen asking to see you.” - -“I told you I was not at home to any one, Hollowell. Is it necessary for -me to repeat your instructions?” - -“No, sir,--thank you, sir. But these gentlemen say they must see you, -sir. They are outside, sir,--in the hall. I asked--” - -“Who are they? What is their business?” - -“I asked both those questions, sir,” said the butler, in evident -distress. - -“Yes, yes,--well, and what did they say?” - -“They simply said 'Never mind,'” said Hollowell, with a great deal of -feeling. - -Carstairs stopped suddenly in his tracks. - -“I thought you said they were gentlemen.” - -His brow darkened. He had sensed the truth. Secret service men. - -“My mistake, sir,--my mistake,” mumbled Hollowell. “Ahem! I can -only add, Mr. Carstairs, that they seem to think you _are_ at home, -and--ah--” - -“Conduct them to this room,” said Carstairs. A few minutes later: “Come -in, gentlemen, and be seated. I suppose you are here to ascertain if -I can throw any light on the Derrol Steele affair. It is no secret, -of course, that he was my niece's fiance, and that he was a constant -visitor here. I am afraid, however, that I can be of no assistance to -you. Captain Steele--” - -“Pardon me, Mr. Carstairs,” said one of his visitors, a sharp-eyed, -clean-cut man of forty, “but, as a matter of fact, our business here is -really with Mrs. Carstairs. Will you be good enough to ask her to step -into this room?” - -His companion had closed the door, and both remained standing. - -“I assure you she knows as little as I do about this distressing affair. -My niece is very ill. She cannot leave her. You must allow me,--for the -present, at least,--to speak for Mrs. Carstairs.” - -“Deeply as I regret it, Mr. Carstairs, I must insist that your wife--” - -“You heard what I said, didn't you?” demanded Carstairs coldly. Two -vivid red blotches shot into his cheeks. - -The two men looked at each other. Then the spokesman gave a significant -jerk of his head. His companion opened the door and stepped quickly -into the hall. As the door closed, the one who remained drew nearer to -Carstairs. - -“In the first place, Mr. Carstairs, you cannot speak for your wife. I am -not here to make inquiries, sir, but to escort her to the offices of the -United States Attorney, who will--” - -Carstairs started up from his chair. “What infernal nonsense is this?” - -“I am afraid it isn't nonsense,” said the other quietly. “My -instructions,--my orders, I may say,--are to confront Mrs. Carstairs -with certain charges, in your presence, by the way,--and to remain in -this apartment until further orders. There is no alternative.” - -“Charges?” gasped Davenport Carstairs, incredulously. “What do you mean? -What charges have been brought against _us?_” - -“There is nothing against _you_, sir. I am instructed to exercise the -greatest consideration for you. A great deal, I may add, is left to -my discretion, after all. Your wife, I am compelled to inform you, -is charged with a very serious offence. In plain words, we have -indisputable proof that she is and has been for several years in direct -communication with the German Government through--” - -“It is a damned, outrageous lie!” shouted Carstairs, furiously. “How -dare you come here--” - -“Just a moment, please,” interrupted the other sharply. “My instructions -are to treat you with the utmost respect and consideration. I must ask -you to accord me the same treatment. Will you send for your wife, or -must I resort to the authority that--” - -“For God's sake, man,--wait! Let me get this thing through my head. -I--I---will try to control myself. There has been some terrible mistake. -Let us discuss the matter calmly. I can explain everything. We must -spare her the mortification, the humiliation of being--Why, my dear sir, -it would--kill her. She would not survive the--” - -The agent held up his hand. “There is no mistake. It may be possible -to spare her the disgrace, the ignominy of public exposure. That, sir, -rests with her--and with you. We recognize your position, Mr. Carstairs. -There is a disposition on the part of the authorities to protect you. -With that object in view, I am instructed to grant Mrs. Carstairs the -privilege of remaining in her own room until tomorrow morning. We are to -take no definite action tonight, unless, of course, you and she decide -that it is best for her to accompany me to the--er--to headquarters. It -is up to you and Mrs. Carstairs, sir.” - -Davenport Carstairs was a strong, virile character. He possessed the -arrogance born of power and a confidence in himself that had never -been shaken. His home was his stronghold, his wife its treasure. In his -serene strength he could not conceive of discredit falling upon either. -Instead of faltering, now that the first shock had been weathered, he -drew himself up and faced the situation with a courage that excited the -wonder and admiration of the man who came with evil tidings. - -“Be seated,” said he, indicating a chair. The man sat down. “You may be -partially if not entirely ignorant of the nature of these charges. Am I -right in assuming that you are not at liberty to discuss them with me?” - -“On the contrary, Mr. Carstairs, I have been advised to do nothing until -I have talked the matter over with you. I am in possession of all the -facts.” - -“Is the department content to allow me to pass judgment on my wife?” - inquired Carstairs, with a touch of irony. He maintained a calm -exterior,--at what cost no one but he will ever know. The secret service -man made no response. “In any case, I shall have to ask you to explain -everything to me before permitting you to approach my wife.” - -The agent, who shall be called Jones, nodded his head, and then leaned -forward in his chair. - -“A man named Hodges was in your employ as a butler up to a fortnight -ago. He had worked for you exactly seven weeks and one day. Do you know -where he came from and who he really was, Mr. Carstairs?” - -“No. Mrs. Carstairs engages the servants here. Are you going to tell me -that he was a German spy?” - -“Far from it, sir. 'He was a British secret service agent. His name was -Bridgeford. He was killed by an automobile, but not accidentally as you -have been led to believe. We have been looking for the driver of that -car for two weeks. Last night we got him. He has confessed. Since -six o'clock this evening three other men have been arrested,--all -subordinate figures in the game. Before morning we expect to land at -least one or two of the principal members of the shrewdest gang of spies -operating in the name and interest of the Kaiser.” - -“Including my wife,” said Carstairs, lifting his eyebrows. - -Jones allowed the remark to pass without comment. - -“Bridgeford,--or Hodges, as you knew him,--was sent to this city from -London. For a long time he worked independently. A few days before his -death, we received instructions from Washington to get in touch with -him. That was the first we knew of him, I'll confess. The British -Foreign Office advised our department that he had finally got hold of -something big and tangible. But evidently the German Foreign Office also -was wise to him. He reported to us on the afternoon of the day he was -killed. He said that the time was not yet ripe to take positive steps, -but that he would soon have the goods on four or five prominent people. -He gave us the names of these people. Two of them he was sure about, the -others were in doubt. Believe me, they _were_ prominent. We were to hold -off till he said the word. That night he was killed. But they didn't -do it soon enough. We had all his data, incomplete as it was, and we've -followed it up. That's why I am here this evening.” - -He paused; and Carstairs said, harshly: “Well, go on,--why do you -hesitate?” - -“We know now, beyond all possible doubt, that information of the most -vital character has reached the German Admiralty and the Foreign Office -through Mrs. Carstairs,” said Jones deliberately. - -“I may be pardoned if I repeat that it is a damned lie,” said Carstairs, -gripping the arms of his chair. - -“You have said just what you were expected to say, Mr. Carstairs. Before -I have finished, however, you will realize that it is not a damned lie. -I am authorized to exhibit certain memoranda from the Department. You -will then agree with us that the information came from this house,--from -this apartment, in fact.” - -“In the light of what happened last night, I may go so far as to concede -that such may have been the case. Permit me to remind you of the suicide -of Captain--” - -He broke off abruptly, struck by the expression in the other's face. -Jones shook his head slowly. There was genuine distress in his voice -when he spoke. - -“Captain Steele was murdered, Mr. Carstairs,” he said. “He did not kill -himself.” Carstairs sprang to his feet. For an instant a flash of joy -transfigured his face. - -[Illustration: 0169] - -“By 'gad, I knew it,--I knew it! I would have staked my soul on that -boy's honour. Murdered? My God! And for what hellish purpose is his name -blackened by the foul reports given to the press by your--” - -“A very grave injustice has been done an honourable gentleman,” - interrupted Jones, with real feeling. “Captain Steele was murdered by -assassins in the employ of persons connected with the German Government. -When I have finished my story,--I shall make it brief,--you will -understand that, far from being a traitor to his country, Derrol Steele -was a patriot who would not have hesitated to denounce--” He withheld -the words that rose to his lips in vindication of the maligned officer. -“A careful search of his rooms today resulted in the discovery of a -document in his own handwriting, written after he left your apartment -last night, and put under lock and key some time prior to the arrival -of the assassins. I have a copy of it with me. You will observe that he -does not make definite accusations against any one, and that he employs -initials only in designating the persons involved. He goes no farther -than to express his own misgivings, his suspicions and certain -observations that prove how keenly alive he was to the--real situation. -Sit down, Mr. Carstairs, and look over these papers. Begin here, -sir,--with the data obtained by the man you knew as Hodges. I beg to -assure you, in advance, that my superiors entertain no thought that you -were at any time cognizant of what has been going on in your own home, -and there is the profoundest desire on their part to spare you--” - -“Enough, sir! Let me see the papers.” - -“Just a moment, please. There is one gap in the sequence of events -leading up to the death of Captain Steele. We are confident that the -leaders of this great conspiracy were warned late last night that -Captain Steele suspected a certain person, but we have been unable to -discover by what means, or through whom, this warning was delivered. The -men under arrest, with the exception of the chauffeur, absolutely refuse -to make a statement of any kind, and he, we are confident, does not know -who the go-between was. All he knows,--or thinks, at least,--is that -he and his pals were double-crossed last night by--well, by Mrs. -Carstairs.” - -Davenport Carstairs read the papers placed in his hands by the Secret -Service man. One by one, they fell from his stiff, trembling fingers, -fluttering to the floor, each in its succeeding turn. At the end, he -looked not into Jones's eyes, but past them, and from his own the light -was gone. - -“Will you ask your wife to come in now, Mr. Carstairs?” said Jones, a -trifle unsteadily. - -Carstairs stared at him for a moment, unseeingly. Then he passed his -hand over his eyes as if to clear them of something revolting. The -moment was tense, spasmodic, prophetic of approaching collapse. The -strength and courage and confidence of the man had sustained a shock -that made ruin of them all. He wondered dumbly whether he would ever -have the power and the desire to lift his head again and look into the -eye of this man who sat there with him. The whole fabric of existence -was torn to shreds by the merciless revelations contained in the papers -he had read with the steel in his heart. They were complete, irrefutable -indictments. There was no such thing as going behind them. Steele's -blighting conjectures suddenly became truths of the most appalling -nature; the astonishing record of Hodges the butler laid bare a -multitude of secrets; the brief, almost laconic summing-up of facts -in the possession of the Department took the heart out of his body and -scorched it with conviction,--for he knew that the Secret Eye had looked -into the very soul of the woman he loved and cherished and trusted.... - -“If you do not object, I will speak with her--alone,” said he, -lifelessly. He struggled to his feet, and, by the mightiest effort of -the will, lifted his head and fixed his haggard eyes upon the face of -the man who had cast the bomb at his feet:--a far more potent agent of -destruction than any that Germany herself had ever hurled! It was to -destroy heaven and earth for him. - -Jones, cleared his throat. “That is for you to decide, Mr. Carstairs,” - he said, and there was something significant in his voice and manner. -“Will you take these documents--” - -“No. I do not wish her to see them. Be good enough to step into the -drawing-room,--and wait. This way--through this door. And please call -your companion. It is not necessary for him to stand guard over her. You -have my word that she shall not escape.” - -“We are to respect your wishes in every particular, Mr. Carstairs. The -authorities appreciate your position. It is their desire to spare you, -if possible, the disgrace, the pain--” He stopped. - -“I think I understand,” said Davenport Carstairs slowly. A moment later -he was alone. - -Presently he unlocked and opened a small drawer in his desk. He took out -something that glittered, examined it carefully, and then stuck it into -his coat pocket. His jaws were set; in his eyes lay the hard, cold light -of steel. - -He did not falter. - -She had not been fair with him, but he would be fair with her. He would -stand by her to the end.... She should have her chance. He would see to -it that the newspapers,--and the world,--dealt kindly with her. He had -loved her. - -If possible, he would see to it that he was the only one in all the -world to hate her. - -He went to her room. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -|FAR in the night he said to her: “It is the only way. I shall leave you -to yourself now, Frieda. The rest is with God and you. Tomorrow morning -they will take you away. They may--they probably will shoot you as -a spy. I cannot save you,--nothing that I can do will be of avail in -turning aside or tempering the wrath of Justice.” - -She sat, limply, with bowed head. Her fine body seemed to have -shrivelled; emptied of its vitality, it had shrunk as with age before -his eyes. Everything that had fed her blood for years seeped away, -leaving a waste of sunken flesh: pride, arrogance, defiance, and, last -of all, fury,--all had gone out of the house of her soul. There was -nothing left but the pitiful thing called life. - -She raised her eyes. - -“I cannot take _your_ way out, Davenport,” she said dully. - -He pointed to the revolver he had laid on her dressing-table. - -“_That_, Frieda, is the only friend you have in all this world tonight.” - -“Oh, my God! Are you heartless? Have you no pity, no love, no--” - -“I have pity,--nothing more. Love? I have given you love for twenty -years and more. You have defiled it. Do not speak of love!” - -“You know I love you--you know I would die for you a thousand times -over. You are my man,--my master, my--” - -“Enough, Frieda! You have played a great game,--but an ignoble one,--and -you have lost. You have begged me to--to become your executioner. You -ask me to kill you. You--” - -“I do not ask it now,” she broke in, looking him full in the eye. “Go, -Davenport. Leave me to myself. Thank you for--for being kind to me -tonight,--after all. I have told you the truth,--you know everything -that my conscience permits me to reveal. You know more than that man -who sits out there like a vulture, waiting for--waiting for _me_. What -I have confessed to you I would die a thousand times over rather than -confess to another living soul. They could take me away tonight and -torture me till I died, and not one word of what I have said to you -would pass my lips. They know enough, but you alone know all. You say -the world will never know what I have done. I do not care. Let the world -know. I am proud of my blood--I rejoice in the little I have been able -to do for----” - -“Hush! Do not say it.” - -“Very well. It hurts you. I do not want to hurt you now, husband. The -world is to believe that I--that an accident--a sudden--” She buried her -face in her hands. Her body shook. - -“I would spare your son, Frieda,” said he. - -She looked up, dry-eyed. A quick flash,--could it have been of -joy?--lighted her haggard face. - -“Yes, yes,--he must be spared,” she cried. A deep, inscrutable -expression came into her eyes. She drew a deep, full breath. “Thank God! -He is young,--he has a long and useful life to live. I gave it him. That -is the best, the biggest thing I have done. Now, go, Davenport. Shall we -say--good-night?” - -The following day,--in the noon issues--all of the New York evening -papers printed, under varied headlines, the details, so far as -available, of the shocking accident which resulted in the death of Mrs. -Davenport Carstairs. She had fallen from a window in her bed-chamber to -the brick-paved courtyard ten stories below. Death was instantaneous. -“Accidental,” was the prompt decision of the coroner. - -Deduction readily established the fact. Mrs. Carstairs must have become -ill in the night. A bottle of smelling salts was found on the floor near -the window which was open to the full. Evidently, she had gone to the -window for air. After opening it wide, a sudden faintness or dizziness -caused her to topple forward.... Before retiring for the night, she had -complained to her husband of a dull, throbbing headache, due, no doubt, -to anxiety over the alarming illness of her niece, Miss Hansbury.... -Sometime after one o'clock, Mr. Carstairs, in the adjoining bed-room, -heard her moaning as if in pain. He arose instantly and opened the -connecting door. She was lying on her bed, and, in response to his -inquiry, begged him not to worry about her. Dr. Browne, called in to -attend Miss Hansbury, had decided to remain for the night. He was lying -down in a guest-chamber, and had fallen asleep. - -Uneasy over his wife's condition, Mr. Carstairs awoke the physician -and together they returned to her room. A knock on the door brought -no response,--but some relief in the thought that she was asleep. The -husband opened the door slightly and listened. There was no sound. -He entered the room, which was dark, and approached the bed. Then, -he called out to the doctor to switch on the lights.... A cold icy -draft,--the Night-Wind,--rushing into the room through the open -window.... - -Continuing, the papers spoke profoundly of the great loss to society, -of the qualities that made Mrs. Davenport Carstairs one of the most -sincerely beloved women in all the great city, of her prominence in -the conduct of important war charities and reliefs, of her unswerving -devotion to the cause for which America and her sons were fighting, of -her manifold charms and graces. Her untimely death created a void that -could never be filled. Eulogy upon eulogy! - -Among the hundreds of telegrams of condolence received by Davenport -Carstairs was one from Mr. Paul Zimmerlein, couched in most exquisite -terms, conveying tribute to the dead and sympathy to the living. It was -sent on the second day from the smart club to which he belonged; on the -third flowers went up with his card. - -As business went on as usual at the offices of Mr. Paul Zimmerlein, it -would be sheer presumption to even suggest that this unhappy chronicle -has reached - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Shot With Crimson, by George Barr McCutcheon - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHOT WITH CRIMSON *** - -***** This file should be named 54099-0.txt or 54099-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/0/9/54099/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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